


Intro to Emotional Regulation

by onemechanicalalligator



Series: Topics in Romance and Recovery [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Eating Disorders, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Trauma, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 35,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: “It’s okay to let people help you,” Jeff whispers, unsure if Abed can even hear him.“It’s weird that people want to,” Abed replies just as quietly, still facing the other direction.Abed is deteriorating very quickly, and his friends are here to help him. Takes place post-Troy leaving on a boat, right after "Bondage and Beta Male Sexuality".
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Series: Topics in Romance and Recovery [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775179
Comments: 259
Kudos: 580





	1. Chapter 1

Abed tries not to mess with the ring of scabs around his wrist when he's in study group, because he doesn't want anyone to see them and ask what happened. He doesn't want to explain. He doesn't want them to get into a fight with Hickey.

When Abed is not in study group, he does mess with them. He rubs them and picks them and makes them open up again and somehow that makes it so he can breathe again. He does it when he's missing Troy, or when all the sounds get too loud or the lights get too bright. He does it when he's feeling too much, or too little, when he feels like he'll be consumed by sensation or grief.

After a few days his wrist is so raw he has to wrap it in a bandage, and then he can't pick it anymore, so he starts scratching his forearms instead. It's not a totally conscious decision. Usually he doesn't even notice he's doing it, until he looks down and he's bleeding, but at least he's also breathing. At least there's a different kind of hurt to focus on, instead of the Troy-shaped hole in his chest and the incredible amount of effort it takes to act like he's fine all the time.

It escalates further when he realizes that the Xact-o knife he uses for dioramas and storyboards will give him the sensation and the blood he now relies on with much less effort. A small part of his brain recognizes this is not normal, which is why he starts cutting his hips and thighs and leaves his arms alone. Sometimes he'll make a quick cut on his shoulder if he's strapped for time. It doesn't matter. He's run the simulations and he doesn't see himself ever getting romantically involved with anyone. No one will ever see these secret parts of him.

Sometimes the small voice in his head whispers, _What about if Troy comes back?_ When that happens he pushes the blade in a little deeper, just until it gets quiet again. Troy will never see the secret parts of him, either. It would be illogical to proceed as if he would. It's an impossibility.

He's kind of stopped eating and sleeping so much since Troy left, too. Not on purpose. It just kind of happened. Maybe that's why he messed up and destroyed Hickey's cartoons. He usually has better control of himself, but lately everything just feels harder. He's tired all the time, but when he tries to sleep his heart starts beating too fast and then suddenly he's wide awake even though his body aches with exhaustion.

There are only a few foods he eats anyway, because he has trouble with certain textures and temperatures, but lately most things turn his stomach and he's stopped trying to eat more than what he needs to stay alive. He's not sure how sustainable that is, but no one has noticed yet, or if they have, they haven't said anything.

They have noticed, though. The eating and sleeping, at least. Because the next time Abed walks into study group, everyone else is all there, and they are all staring at him as he carefully sits down at his place and sets down his bag. He’s gotten better at recognizing some social cues, but in this case he pretends he doesn’t and pulls out his text book and figures someone else can start talking first.

Abed hears Britta take a breath like she’s going to speak, although he’s staring down at the table and can’t actually see her. Then there’s a pause, and because Abed knows his friends, he can practically see Jeff glaring at her until she shuts up. Then he feels someone next to him, and he still doesn’t look up.

“Abed?”

“Hello, Jeff.” Abed tries to make his voice sound normal but there’s something wrong with it and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Jeff doesn’t sound normal either, though. He sounds nervous. Which is unsettling.

“Abed...can you look at me?”

Abed lifts his head towards Jeff, but he can’t make eye contact. This isn’t new, though. He hates making eye contact. Jeff knows this. The whole study group knows this. Abed looks past his shoulder. It’s the best he can do. He’s so, so tired. He thought about staying in bed today, but he didn’t want to make Annie think anything was wrong, even though now that he’s in study group it’s clear she knows there is. He hasn’t looked at her yet. Since Troy left he’s been watching movies any time he’s at home, which isn’t that different from normal, except Troy’s not with him. It means he doesn't have to talk to Annie so much.

“Abed. We just want to know if you’re all right. We’re worried about you.”

Abed thinks this is maybe true. But he also knows that Hickey is in the room with him, and he can hear Hickey’s voice in his head, complaining about how his friends all walk on eggshells around him, about how he needs to stop being so spoiled, and he thinks maybe Hickey is right, because he’s always known he’s high maintenance and he’s never had this many friends, or any friends who stuck around for this long, and maybe it’s time for him to start toning himself down, because Troy used to take care of him and now Troy is gone and he doesn’t want to push anyone else away, and what if Troy decided to leave because he was sick of Abed, and what if Troy decides not to come back…

Abed’s breath hitches and his thoughts are coming too fast and he can hear the buzz of the fluorescent light and he has to get out of here _right now._ He doesn’t even have the brainpower to assure the group he’s fine, he just grabs his bag and bolts and doesn’t stop running until he’s in the storage closet. Troy used to follow him there, but he’s not sure if anyone else in the group knows about it, and he really hopes they don’t.

Once he’s inside he tries to take some deep breaths but he is shaking and drained and nauseous and he can only really think of one thing to do, so he finds the Xact-o knife in his bag and since he’s curled up in a ball on the floor, he shrugs down his hoodie and carefully pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt and cuts himself a few times on his upper arm. Another secret part of him. It doesn’t work right away and he starts to panic and he does it a few more times, pushing a little harder, willing his lungs to open up because his vision is starting to go black. His breathing is shallow and fast and he vaguely registers that there is a lot more blood than he is used to. And then he passes out.

* * *

Jeff stands with his mouth open as Abed runs out of the room. The rest of the study group is similarly shocked. They’ve seen Abed have a meltdown, but nothing like this. Jeff doesn’t know whether to follow him, or to consult with the group. He looks around at them, at a loss.

“Go after him,” says Britta in a hoarse voice. Shirley nods.

“Jeff, you have to go after him,” Annie agrees. “I bet he’s in that closet.”

“What closet?” Jeff frowns. His eyes move over to Hickey, in the corner, glowering and saying nothing. “And what’s your problem, man?”

Hickey rolls his eyes. “You coddle that boy. Indulge his fantasies. He’ll never grow up that way. He’s a spoiled brat and all you do is contribute to it.”

Everyone’s eyes get large and no one knows who should speak first, but they all know they need to get this right, because if they explode at the same time Hickey won’t hear a word of it and that can’t happen. Finally, as usual, all eyes turn back to Jeff, who is red with fury and glaring daggers at Hickey.

“What the fuck, man? You don’t even know Abed. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hickey continues to glare silently. Jeff continues.

“You’re a community college teacher. You were a cop. Are you meaning to tell me you’ve never encountered someone on the spectrum before? You have no idea what Abed deals with on a daily basis.”

At that, Hickey’s glare flickers for a second, like he’s putting something together that he never thought of before. He still doesn’t say a word, though.

Jeff repeats, “You have no idea what he deals with.” Then his face pales and he runs out of the room. Because maybe he has no idea what Abed is going through, either. And maybe that’s the problem.

He stops, doubles back, and ducks his head back into the room, where everyone is still silent.

“Annie,” he gasps. “ _What closet_?”


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Jeff reaches the closet and yanks the door open, Abed is unconscious and slumped on an overturned bucket, his legs splayed out at an odd angle. His left arm is soaked in blood and Jeff feels his heart skip a beat. He calls 911 on his cell phone while he gently pulls off Abed’s hoodie and tries to wrap it around his arm, and then texts the study group.

* * *

> **GROUP CONVERSATION: SPANISH STUDY GROUP**
> 
> **Jeff:** my car keys are on the table. Can someone take my car and meet @ hospital. Riding in ambulance w/abed
> 
> **Annie:** JEFF WHAT HAPPENED?
> 
> **Jeff:** Don’t know yet. He is unconscious. Will update when i know more
> 
> **Britta:** Holy shit
> 
> **Annie:** I’ve got your keys and I’ll meet you there.
> 
> **Shirley:** He’s in my prayers, Jeffrey!!

* * *

Abed wakes up to a steady beeping by his right ear. The sound is loud and excruciating. He blinks his eyes open to see white walls and a curtain. He’s in the hospital.

Abed hates doctors, and he _especially_ hates hospitals. Even more, he hates not knowing what is happening or how he got here. He feels a scream start in the back of his throat, but before it exits his mouth a hand grasps his and squeezes it, jerking him back into reality.

“Abed.” It’s Jeff’s voice. Abed relaxes a little and Jeff lets go of his hand, probably because he knows Abed is generally not a fan of being touched, and Abed appreciates that he remembered. He opens his eyes all the way and looks to the side of the bed.

“Hello, Jeff.” It’s the same thing he said this morning. The only thing he said this morning, before… He starts to remember what happened, and he gets to the part where he was in the closet, and then he jerks his head to the other side and sees that his left upper arm is covered in a bandage, and the shame that he feels nearly drowns him. He can’t speak. He looks back to Jeff, helpless, hoping Jeff can see the question in his eyes because _he_ _can’t speak_.

Jeff may pretend not to care about things, but he’s actually a very good friend, and of course he knows the question, and he doesn’t pull any punches.

“I found you unconscious in the supply closet,” he says, quietly. Abed is staring over Jeff’s shoulder, and he knows that Jeff knows this is as close as he will get to eye contact. “Your arm was cut to shreds and there was…” His voice catches, and Abed is startled because he’s never heard that kind of emotion come from Jeff before. “There was blood everywhere, man. It looked like someone had attacked you.”

Abed closes his eyes. His whole body is shaking. He is drowning in shame, and it's uncomfortable, and he hates it.

“There was no one else, though. Was there, Abed?” Jeff is trying to disguise his emotion with his lawyer voice, Abed can tell. And he opens his eyes and mouth, stares at the ceiling, tries as hard as he can to answer, because Jeff deserves that, and Abed has given him a lot of stuff he didn’t deserve today.

“No one else,” Abed whispers, and closes his eyes again. He feels like he is going to cry and he doesn’t know what to do with that feeling, either, so he just shakes harder and his breathing gets shallower and he can hear the beeping on the monitor speed up and it’s all just too much.

“Abed. Abed. Can you breathe with me? You’re okay. But you’ve got to breathe, because otherwise the doctor is probably going to come in and give you medicine and I know you hate doctors, which is why I stayed here with you, but if they hear how fast your heart rate is I’m positive someone is going to come in here. Take a deep breath. Breathe with me. You’re okay.”

Jeff is kind of rambling but it distracts Abed and he tries to match his breaths to Jeff’s. After a few minutes, he’s a little bit calmer.

“Thanks, Jeff,” he whispers, because he can’t find his whole voice, doesn’t know where it went. He desperately wants to turn inside himself and block everything out until he can figure out what comes next. But he won’t do that to Jeff. So he just sighs and continues to look over Jeff’s shoulder, wondering how to approach this. He’s tired, so very tired.

“Annie’s in the waiting room.” Jeff raises his eyebrows at Abed as he says this, and Abed doesn’t know what that means, so he ignores it.

“Does everybody know?” he whispers. He doesn’t want everybody to know.

“All they know is I found you unconscious in the supply closet and called an ambulance,” Jeff says. “I had Annie bring my car over. I rode in the ambulance with you.” He sounds a little bashful as he says this, but Abed is deeply touched, because he does not trust medical professionals and he never wants to be alone with them and Jeff remembered that, even though Abed couldn't remind him.

“What...what will you tell them?” Abed whispers. He feels like he owes it to Jeff to decide what to explain to the group, and also he has no idea where to begin, and also he is so very, very scared.

“I don’t know, Abed...I’m not sure I completely understand what happened. All I know is you passed out, and you had to have a shitload of stitches in your arm.”

Abed startles at that, and Jeff quickly continues.

“I was in the room the whole time. No one put anything in your body. I promise.” Abed knows his fear is ridiculous and he also knows Jeff is completely serious and he is grateful. Abed glances again to his left arm, with all the bandages and what he now knows are stitches underneath, and then he realizes that he is in a hospital gown, and even though there is a blanket over his lap, his right wrist, ringed with scabs that have been opened over and over and over, is on top of the blanket, and Jeff was just holding that hand, and their eyes meet for a second and Abed wonders if things could possibly get worse. Because he can’t lie to Jeff. Not now.

“You cut your arm badly enough to need stitches,” Jeff says, and it isn’t a question. Abed looks down and nods. “Did you do this, too?” He’s staring at Abed’s wrist.

“I…” He tries to think of how to explain. “Yes and no?”

Jeff narrows his eyes.

“Someone else did it. Initially. And then I…” He doesn’t know how to finish and just trails off, awkwardly.

“You kept messing with it because it made you feel better and when that stopped being enough you started cutting yourself,” Jeff says. Abed looks up and sees that his eyes are closed and he’s wondering how Jeff managed to read his mind.

“Yes,” he whispers.

Jeff opens his eyes and looks directly into Abed’s for just a second. Then he tugs on the hem of his shirt and lifts it just high enough for Abed to see a scar there.

“I did this myself,” he says quietly, “when I was a kid, to get sympathy from my friends. Britta knows that. No one else does.”

He looks sharply at Abed, and Abed nods.

“Since then I’ve done it a few other times. Other places. Because it helps. No one knows this.”

He looks sharply at Abed again, and Abed nods again.

“I’m not condoning it. I’m not telling you it’s okay that you did it. This conversation certainly isn’t over. I’m just telling you that I understand.”

His gaze softens, and Abed nods warily one more time, looking over Jeff’s shoulder again.

“Are you going to tell the group about me? About this?” He tilts his head toward his left arm with all the bandages.

Jeff stays still for a minute, and then slowly shakes his head. “I think you should tell them, or at least some of them. At least Annie,” he amends, when Abed’s eyes start to grow large. “But I won’t tell them. Do...do you think you want to tell Troy?”

Abed jolts upright in bed. “Does Troy know I’m in the hospital?” His normal voice is suddenly back, now shot through with panic, and he can feel the shame pooling in his body again.

Now Jeff’s eyes have grown wide. “I’m not sure,” he says gently. “I texted the study group’s group chat. I think his phone is still part of it. But I don’t know if he has his phone anymore.”

Abed doesn’t know either. He hasn’t heard anything from Troy since he left, but he doubts he has his phone on an international boat trip. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm down.

“Okay,” he says.

Jeff stares hard at him for a minute and then lets it go. “We can tell everyone you just passed out from exhaustion or something,” he says. “Which is true. The doctor said it looked like you hadn’t really been eating or sleeping. You’re kind of malnourished.”

Abed just shrugs.

“Okay. That’s another conversation that we’re not done with,” Jeff says sternly. “But right now I want to know something else. Who hurt your wrist? The first time?”

* * *

Abed shakes his head. Actually, Abed's whole body is shaking, and Jeff feels compelled to reach out and take his hand again, but stops himself.

“Abed. Hey. It’s okay. I know you don’t want to tell me. But it’s not okay, what happened to you. I just want to know you’re safe.”

Abed shakes his head again. Jeff sighs. He’s not going to give up on this. Abed is his friend and someone hurt him and that’s not okay, that will never be okay. He feels the rage well up inside him and tries a different tactic.

“Can I guess? If I guess correctly, will you tell me?” He doesn’t know how successful this will be, but it’s worth a shot. He has a couple of vague ideas in the back of his head and he’s hoping to be wrong about both.

Abed stays still for a long time, and just when Jeff is about to pry again, he very slowly nods his head, looking miserable and defeated. Jeff doesn’t beat around the bush.

“Was it your dad?” He doesn’t think Abed’s father is abusive, but he does have a temper, and also, you never know what really goes on behind closed doors.

Thankfully, Abed shakes his head no.

“Was it someone at school?”

Abed quickly glances up at Jeff and then nods. Jeff is pretty sure he knows the answer now, and he can feel the anger building in his chest.

Very quietly he asks, “Was it Hickey?”

* * *

Abed startles, a horrified look on his face, because he never thought Jeff would actually guess correctly, and then realizes he is already nodding without meaning to. He stops, then buries his head in his hands, then gasps when the motion jostles his stitched arm with a bolt of pain. Tears come to his eyes and he has never, ever felt this out of control with his emotions. He doesn’t want Jeff to see him cry. He doesn’t want Jeff to know what happened between him and Hickey, especially since it was his fault in the first place. He doesn’t want to be in the hospital. He doesn’t want Troy to be gone. And all of these things are happening, or have happened, or will happen, and he has no control over any of it.

“Abed. Abed!” Jeff has grabbed his hand without him even noticing and he is trying to get Abed’s attention, to help him breathe, because his breathing is quick and shallow again and that beeping on the monitor is speeding up. Abed tries to follow, because he doesn’t want the doctor to come in. He breathes with Jeff until everything comes back into focus. Abed doesn’t say anything, but shoots Jeff a grateful glance, and Jeff is better at reading faces, and he understands.

“Good, good,” Jeff says. And then jumps right back into the thick of it. “Now, what the fuck did Hickey do to you?”

Abed sighs, because he knows he can’t get out of this. Then he fixes his gaze over Jeff’s shoulder and tells Jeff exactly what the fuck Hickey did to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jeff is sitting next to Abed’s hospital bed, fuming. Abed has gotten into an argument with the nurse who tries to bring him a tray of food that he refuses to eat, and Jeff finally gets in between them and says he will ask Annie to go home and get some buttered noodles. The nurse leaves in a huff and Abed thanks Jeff and then falls asleep so fast Jeff wonders if he’s passed out again. He seems okay, though, and he's still hooked up to all those monitors, so Jeff takes the opportunity to think about the situation with Hickey while he waits for Annie to arrive. Annie hasn’t seen Abed yet, and Jeff just hopes Abed will tell her the truth about what happened. With that on his mind, he walks back over to Abed and pulls the blanket up over his bandaged arm, in case Annie gets there while he’s still asleep. He hopes Abed will tell Annie, but he's not going to take that choice away from him.

He’s going to have a talk with Hickey, that’s for sure. Not today, though. He’s going to need to cool off so he doesn’t do something he regrets. Well, he probably wouldn’t regret it, but he would regret causing more trouble for Abed, which is close enough. Abed thinks he and Hickey are equally culpable, that it’s Abed’s fault their fight happened in the first place, that Hickey was right about the things he said. And maybe on some levels he was, but on some levels he certainly wasn’t, and also, you don’t fucking handcuff a college student to a filing cabinet, especially not so tightly that his wrist is bleeding afterwards, and especially especially one who already has trouble with social cues and appropriate responses to unfamiliar situations.

He doesn’t think he ever realized quite how much he cares about Abed and their friendship until this moment, Abed motionless in a hospital bed, looking so fragile that Jeff is kicking himself for not realizing that Abed hasn’t been eating or sleeping. His limbs are thinner even than usual, and there are dark purple bruises under his eyes. How did Jeff miss this? This isn’t the Abed he’s known for five years.

He wonders how much of this is due to Troy leaving. That’s when it started, right? But it also started when Hickey yelled at Abed and put these bullshit ideas in his head, and… Jeff sighs. Dwelling on it right now probably isn’t going to help anything. Right now, all that matters is keeping Abed safe. They’ll figure the rest out later.

Jeff really hopes Abed will talk to Annie.

As if he conjured her out of thin air, suddenly Annie is in the doorway, arms loaded with buttered noodles and a thermos of special drink and her grandmother’s courting quilt, which she lays over Abed after Jeff takes the rest from her and sets it on the table.

“So he’ll have something familiar,” she says quietly, so as not to wake Abed up. Then she falls into Jeff’s arms, squeezing him tight, and whispers, “Is he okay?”

“He’s okay,” Jeff says, squeezing her shoulder back as she pulls away. “The doctor thinks he passed out from exhaustion.”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Or malnourishment. He’s barely been eating. You wouldn’t believe how many noodles I found in the kitchen.” She looks annoyed, but also scared, like she doesn’t know what to do next.

“Thanks for bringing these,” Jeff says. “He won’t eat the hospital food.”

“Shocker,” Annie deadpans. “Jeff...just exhaustion? Are they sure?”

Jeff is an excellent liar. He’s a lawyer, for God’s sake. He can lie to anyone about anything. It’s his gift. And when Annie looks him in the eye with that face, worry etched all over, he knows she can see right through him. Still, he does his best, because he promised Abed.

“Yup,” he says, and with just that single syllable he hears his voice waver and he cringes a little inside. He can’t look Annie in the eye, so he looks at Abed instead. And that hurts his heart, so he looks at the monitor and asks himself when he started being this guy, this emotional guy who can’t even tell a good lie to protect a friend.

He steals a glance back over to Annie, who has a look on her face that says, “I know you better than that, Winger,” because she does, and he knows it. His shoulders slump.

“I promised Abed,” he says, in a quiet, careful voice, “that I would tell you that the doctors said he passed out from exhaustion, which is true.”

Annie just stares at him, waiting.

“I also encouraged him to talk to you about anything else that he may have...that may have happened.” He stumbles over his words, and thinks maybe he revealed too much. “That’s...that’s the best I can do, Annie. I promised.”

Annie nods. Then she leans over the bed and before Jeff can say anything, she gives sleeping Abed a gentle hug, and as her arm brushes his left bicep he wakes up with a wince and a groan and Annie jumps up and takes a step back, and Abed sits up and the blanket falls off his shoulder, and there he is, awake in bed in his hospital gown and the bandages on his arm exposed, and Annie’s eyes grow wide, and so do Abed’s, and Jeff’s, and then everyone is still and silent, waiting to see who will speak first.

* * *

It’s Annie, and she just goes for it, because she’s been waiting for hours to see Abed, and she’s tired and scared and she knows Jeff is just being a good friend, but she needs to know what’s going on, and she needs to know now.

“Abed! What happened to your arm?” She looks right into his eyes as she asks, and he turns away from her gaze. He looks like a deer in headlights. Annie thinks she’s never seen his eyes so large and so scared and she feels bad but she doesn’t retract her question. She just waits.

“Hello, Annie,” Abed says, and he sounds like he’s a thousand miles away. Jeff steps up next to Annie so that Abed can see him, so that Abed knows he’s still here.

“Abed,” Jeff says, very gently. “Do you want me to help you explain to Annie what happened? Not the reason it happened,” he adds, seeing Abed’s face, “because I don’t know that part yet either. But just...the basics?”

“Can you please…” Abed coughs and then notices the thermos of special drink Annie brought, picks it up, and takes a sip. “Can you please stand right outside my door where I can see you but not hear you and I know no doctors will come in because you’ll be right in front of the door. And tell her there. But not so I can hear you. Please.” He pauses and then adds, “You can tell her everything, I guess. The...the Hickey thing too.”

Both Jeff and Annie look surprised, but Jeff nods and then escorts Annie to the doorway. Abed lays back down in bed, and from just outside the door Jeff looks at Abed and says in a very quiet voice, “Abed, is this okay?”

Abed looks at him questioningly for a second, then nods and lays down.

“Jeff,” Annie says in a quiet, urgent voice. “Please, tell me what’s going on.” She feels like she’s going to cry, and Jeff can tell, because he puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay,” Jeff says. “I’m going to keep this simple and quick because I have a feeling the doctor is going to come back soon and I’m not going to leave Abed alone in there with a doctor because he refuses to be left alone in there with a doctor because he doesn’t trust them…”

“Jeff.”

“Okay. So, here’s the thing. I don’t know the why of this. Abed hasn’t told me yet. So I can’t tell you what...triggered anything, or whatever. All I know are the basic facts of what happened. Which is that, first of all, at some point Abed stopped eating and sleeping. And at another point he and Hickey had kind of a falling out and some things were said and while those things were being said, Hickey handcuffed Abed to a filing cabinet for like, an hour.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” Annie is horrified. But it’s not over yet.

“Which left Abed with a bloody wrist, and when that scabbed over Abed realized that picking the scabs would bring him emotional release, and that led to him realizing he could find the same release by cutting himself with an Xact-o knife. Which he did this morning in the supply closet, and then passed out, and I found him there unconscious in a pool of blood.”

By the end Jeff’s voice is quiet and ragged and Annie has never heard him like this, never seen him so sad and afraid and vulnerable. She, too, feels sad and afraid and vulnerable, thinking of Abed like that, and of Jeff finding Abed like that.

“Oh, Jeff!” She tries to disguise her distress but her voice catches. “God, I had no idea. I had no idea, and we live together! What kind of roommate am I? How can I make this up to him? Or to you? Are you okay? Oh, my God.” She has started to pace back and forth and Jeff grabs her arm and nods towards the bed. Abed is laying down, but there’s no telling whether he’s asleep, or whether he’s watching them. Annie takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

They both stand there for a long moment, not moving, until Annie slumps against Jeff and he wraps his arms around her and gives her a squeeze. She is overwhelmed by everything that's happening, but more than anything she's horrified at what has happened to Abed and she wants to do whatever she can to fix it. She stands up straighter and turns to Jeff.

“Let’s go back in,” she says, and steps into the room before he can say a thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Abed wakes up just as Jeff and Annie enter the room. He wasn’t deeply asleep, but he doesn’t feel all the way awake, either, and he thinks it maybe has something to do with whatever is dripping into his arm. That thought is unsettling, so he tries to ignore it and looks over at his friends instead. They both look exhausted and kind of shaky, and he realizes they feel that way because of him. And then there’s another feeling that he can’t quite place, until Annie looks at him and catches his eye, and, _oh, it’s guilt_. 

He thinks Annie has started talking, but there is this ringing in his ears, part of it is that monitor beeping but there is a rushing sound, too, and he is dizzy and shaking and there is just _too much_ , too much emotion, too much uncertainty, too much fear, _too much light_.

“Can you…” He knows he is cutting Annie off, hasn’t a clue what she’s been saying. His eyes are closed now and he knows in a minute he's going to lose his ability to speak because although this hospital thing is new, he is no stranger to meltdowns. He’s trying to push back the scream in his throat because that will certainly get a doctor in here.

There is silence, so he continues.

“Can you turn off the light. Please. You don’t have to leave. But it’s too bright and too loud and... _please_.” His voice cracks in desperation on the last please.

He can’t silence the voice in his head in time, the one that says, _Troy would have known, you wouldn’t have had to ask him, he always knew what you needed._

Abed bursts into tears as someone flicks the light switch.

* * *

Annie sits down in the chair next to the bed after turning the light off, and Jeff stands next to her, hand on her shoulder. It’s not full dark in the room; there are monitors and screens and a small lamp in the corner. Abed is laying in bed sobbing, something neither of them have ever seen before. Annie looks like she’s going to cry, too. Jeff feels like he must be dreaming because everything about this is wrong. Abed doesn’t cry. Abed doesn’t go to the hospital. Annie pretends to cry a lot, especially when she’s trying to get her way, but this isn’t that, and seeing Jeff’s own fear and pain reflected on her face freaks him out.

Jeff takes a step towards the bed and reaches for Abed’s hand, then hesitates. He doesn’t want to make things worse, but he has to do something, right?

“Abed.” He speaks quietly and Abed gives no indication that he heard him. “Can I touch you, Abed?”

Abed stops crying for a second, then gasps. Jeff wonders if he’s holding his breath, trying to get himself under control. There is silence for a few moments.

“No.” 

“Okay…” Jeff begins, but Abed isn’t finished.

“Not yet.” Abed’s voice is low and raspy, like his Batman impression but with all the energy sucked out of it. He sounds like he’s dying. But he said not yet, and that’s better than no, right? 

Jeff’s about to ask what Abed needs from them when there is a knock at the door. All three of them look up to see a doctor standing there, and then Abed is frozen, eyes wide, and Jeff can just tell that he is going to start screaming in any second, so he motions for Annie to go talk to Abed and then meets the doctor in the doorway and ushers her back into the hall.

“Excuse me, who…?” She looks confused and annoyed, which is not a great sign, but there’s really no other option so Jeff just starts talking. He tries to put on his lawyer voice, to sound authoritative, but he can immediately tell he just sounds like a dick, so he tones it down.

“Jeff Winger.” He holds out his hand. “I’m so sorry. I know you must be so busy and this is your next stop and we do want to know what is going on with Abed right now so we can get him out of here and everything...but he’s kind of in the middle of a meltdown right now? He has...I’m pretty sure he has Asperger’s or autism or something although I honestly don’t know if he has a diagnosis…” Jeff knows he’s babbling but he can’t control the words coming out of his mouth. “Anyway, right now if you touch him or try to talk to him he’s probably going to start screaming, he might be about to do that anyway if Annie can’t calm him down, and I don’t think you want that, and none of us want that, so...is there anything you can tell me, anything I can help with, or any way you can come back a little later?”

Jeff isn’t even trying to sound innocent or endearing, the way he normally does when he’s trying to get his way. He’s wrecked, he knows it, the doctor knows it. He sighs and hangs his head. The doctor pats him on the shoulder. Jeff looks up.

“Okay. Let’s go through these one at a time, all right?” She has a kind smile and Jeff is shocked, because while he doesn’t hate doctors the way Abed does, they’re certainly not his favorite. He nods, and glances through the doorway to see that Annie is sitting on the bed next to Abed, not touching him. Jeff thinks she might be singing. Abed is quiet.

Jeff clears his throat. “Okay.”

“First of all, hi. I’m Dr. Price. What is your relation to Mr. Nadir?”

“We’re friends. I called the ambulance. We… He’s not really close to his family? So I kind of fill that role instead sometimes? Like right now.”

“Fair enough. Since you aren’t a blood relative, I can’t discuss specifics with you unless Mr. Nadir signs a release.”

Jeff nods. He figured as much.

“However, I can tell you that I will need to speak to him, of course, but I can come back later on when he’s a little calmer. And as long as it’s okay with him, you are more than welcome to stay in the room.”

“He doesn’t like to be alone with doctors,” Jeff says bluntly. Dr. Price nods and seems unfazed.

“I’ve worked with a lot of people who are on the spectrum,” she says. “So I’m sure we can figure out a way to make things work. And if Mr. Nadir can share information regarding a diagnosis, that would be helpful, and if not, perhaps we can get him one. Because he’s going to be here for a little while.”

“I’m sorry, what?” He’s been nodding along as she speaks, but at this, his eyes narrow.

“I can’t discuss specifics, as I said. We can get into the details when we are speaking to Mr. Nadir. But because of the nature of some of his injuries, there is a protocol we have to follow. And then we will have some options for him.”

Jeff starts to respond, but she interrupts.

“That’s all I’m going to say right now. I’ll be back in the next few hours. Let Mr. Nadir know so that he can prepare himself a little. Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly what time it will be. But we’ll discuss everything then.”

“Okay.”

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Winger. You’re a good friend.” She smiles warmly and then disappears down the hall. 

* * *

In the hospital room, Annie is humming to Abed the way she sometimes does at home when he is having a meltdown. She knows not to touch him or try to engage in any way. Troy is the only one who was somehow immune to those rules. She smiles and hums while Jeff talks to the doctor in the hallway. Abed thankfully hasn’t started screaming. After a few minutes his whole body relaxes into the bed and he opens his eyes and looks at Annie in the dim light.

“Thank you,” he whispers. She wonders if he knows his eyes are still full of tears. She doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re welcome, Abed,” she says, just as quietly. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Who was at the door?” 

Annie bites her lip. “I think it was the doctor? But I’m not sure. Jeff is talking to her in the hallway right now, though. Probably asking if she can come back later.”

“Later,” he breathes, and Annie wonders what has happened to her friend, because this shaky, whisper-y shell doesn’t feel like Abed. Then she frowns because she went into rehab as a shaky, whisper-y shell of Annie, and emerged as herself again, and Abed will do the same thing, she’s sure of it. She wants to give him a hug, reaches for him, and then stops herself and sits back. Abed notices.

“You can hold my hand,” he croaks. “Please don’t hug me though.” Annie smiles and takes his hand, rubbing it very softly. Abed is silent.

A moment later Jeff walks in the door and sits down in the chair by the bed. He sees that Abed is awake and nods to him.

“That was the doctor.”

Silence.

“She’s going to come back later. She didn’t tell me anything important. But she seems really nice.”

“Did she say…” Abed trails off, like speaking has sapped all of his energy, and he frowns.

“She said I can stay in the room when she talks to you later, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jeff replies, and Abed nods gratefully. “She also said if you sign a release, she can talk to me about your medical stuff.”

“I’ll sign it,” he says immediately, as Jeff knew he would, and he makes a note to ask a nurse for the form next time she comes in. He’s about to mention this to Abed when both his and Annie’s phones chime at the same time.

“Sorry!” Annie exclaims. “I thought that was on vibrate!” Abed doesn’t respond, and Annie and Jeff both pull out their phones to see who texted. 

Both their eyes go wide at the same time.

“Oh my gosh!” Annie chirps. “It’s--” 

“Shut up, Annie.” Jeff tries to shoot her a look but she’s still staring at her phone and doesn’t see.

“But it’s--”

“ _Shut up, Annie_ ,” he practically growls, and this time she looks up to see him glaring daggers at her.

“I’m assuming that the reason you are trying so hard to shut Annie down is because Troy responded to the group chat and you don’t want her to tell me because of how I reacted to you bringing him up in our earlier conversation,” Abed speaks up. That thread of panic is running through his voice again. “Right, Jeff?”

Jeff says nothing, only nods, and Annie’s face is flaming as she glances from Jeff to Abed and back.

“But don’t you want to know what he…” Annie trails off as Jeff stares at her.

“No,” says Abed, and turns to face the wall. Annie stares at his back, phone still in hand.

A nurse walks in the room, and Jeff bolts over to ask her about the release form. 


	5. Chapter 5

> **GROUP CONVERSATION: SPANISH STUDY GROUP**
> 
> **Troy:** NO NO NO WHAT IS GOING ON  
>  **Troy:** we’re in port today. Have my phone for a little while. Need someone to tell me what happened  
>  **Troy:** YOU GUYS. IS ABED OKAY
> 
> **TEXT MESSAGE: ANNIE EDISON, TROY BARNES**
> 
> **Annie:** He’s okay, Troy. Jeff and I are at the hospital with him right now. I promise I will keep you posted. He’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.  
>  **Troy:** You know me, i cant help worrying. We’re leaving port soon. Idk when i’ll have my phone again. I need you to promise me you’ll keep me updated anyway so i know next time i have my phone. And also I need you to tell Abed I love him.  
>  **Annie:** You love him? What do you mean by that?  
>  **Troy:** Just tell him Annie

* * *

Annie doesn’t tell Abed what Troy said. Not right away, anyway, because she doesn’t want to freak him out, and also because he’s stopped talking again. Jeff has gotten the paper he needs from the nurse, so he signs it and steps out to take it back to the nurse’s station. Annie sends individual texts to Shirley and Britta to tell them an abbreviated version of what's going on, and is relieved she has some time to figure out what else to say to Troy. She has some theories about why Abed is freaking out about this, but she doesn’t want to jump to any conclusions and mess anything up.

She’s used to knowing how to deal with Abed’s quirks, but this whole situation is brand new and she feels completely out of her depth. She can’t stop running scenes from the last few weeks through her head, picturing her interactions with Abed and wondering how she missed all the signs, how she missed him turning into this broken person on the bed. She realizes she can see the bumps of his spine through the thin hospital gown, and he’s shivering.

Without a word she grabs the courting quilt from where it’s fallen and pulls it up over Abed. He turns to face her and his face is carefully blank - finally, something she’s used to. She smiles at him.

“Can we chat? If I promise not to bring up the thing we were just talking about?”

“I guess,” he replies, and Annie’s thinks she’s never heard him sound so defeated.

* * *

Abed has been in the hospital for a few hours now. It’s afternoon. He wants to know when he can leave, but he also doesn’t want the doctor to come in, so he’s kind of stuck, which makes him uneasy. He’s pondering this when Annie asks to talk, and he doesn’t have the energy to argue so he agrees.

“Questions,” Abed says, knowing that Annie will understand. They play this game a lot, when he can’t find the words to talk about a thing, so he has her ask him questions about it and he answers to the best of his ability.

Annie nods and then pauses, thinking. She carefully folds her hands in her lap and gazes at Abed.

“Why?” she asks.

“That’s too big of a question,” he replies immediately. “I know you don’t want to say it out loud but I can’t guarantee that I know what you’re asking and that means I can’t guarantee a correct or honest answer. You need to make your questions smaller. Or clearer. Or both.”

Annie smiles. Abed thinks it’s because he sounds like himself for the first time in...awhile.

He braces himself for Annie to ask him why he did this to himself, because he thinks that’s what she was trying to ask before. But she surprises him and, from the look on her face, surprises herself, as well.

“Are you suicidal, Abed?” she blurts out, and then claps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide, and she has never looked more like a cartoon. This pleases Abed a little, until he remembers where they are and what she’s asked, and then his eyes grow wide, too.

“No.” He says it like a plea, because what he’s really saying is, _You have to believe me, that was never my intention, I promise,_ but all he can get out is that one word. _No_.

Annie raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure? You can be honest with me.”

Abed shakes his head violently, then stops when he gets dizzy.

“Annie, I can assure you that if I were suicidal, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because I’ve watched enough self-destructive character arcs to know what not to screw up.”

He says this matter-of-factly, because it’s the truth, but the horrified expression on Annie’s face tells him he’s said something wrong. This isn’t unusual. He has this problem a lot, in fact, when someone demands honesty from him. So he sits quietly and waits for Annie to elaborate on what he’s done. Then he can try to fix it.

“Abed,” she gasps. “How can you say that?”

“Say what? I just told you I’m not suicidal. I don’t understand your reaction.” Sometimes he has to spell it out for her.

Annie appears to be considering this, because she doesn’t say anything for a minute. Then she shrugs.

“Okay, whatever,” she concedes. “But...you promise, though? Because your arm…”

“Annie, you don’t kill yourself by slashing your upper arm. Even you must know that.”

Abed knows the look on Annie’s face. She’s torn between being annoyed with Abed and knowing he’s right. He also knows she’s going to circle back to her original question soon, and that makes him feel cold inside because while he’s only slightly unclear on the question, he has no idea how to answer it. Usually Abed tries to explain complex emotions through movie references, but he doesn’t even have one of those. He has no frame of reference for his actions. For once, he wasn’t imitating anyone. Things just kind of happened, and now here he is, and he’s at a loss.

His head is spinning now with all of these thoughts, and he pulls Annie’s quilt around him tightly, trying to create some sort of pressure against his body. Sometimes that helps when he feels spinny and out of control.

 _Too bad Troy isn’t here to lay on you_ , he thinks, and then squeezes his eyes shut and tries to get rid of that thought. He pulls the blanket tighter and begins to rock back and forth. He hears Annie start to speak but he can’t do this right now, and he shakes his head and squeezes his eyes tighter shut and wants desperately to bite down on his hand but even in this haze he knows that would be a bad idea in front of his friends, so instead he kind of leans to his left, putting pressure on his stitches, and the relief is incredible. Then he sees Annie turn her head and realizes that Jeff has come back. He pulls the blanket all the way over his head, curls up in a ball on his left side, and tries to block out everything.

* * *

Jeff walks back into the room and sees Abed disappear into Annie’s quilt while Annie watches in silence.

 _What happened?_ he mouths, and she jerks her head towards the door. They stand in the doorway and whisper, because they don’t want to leave Abed, but they also don’t want to disturb him.

“I asked him if he was suicidal,” Annie says quietly. Jeff freezes. He didn’t _not_ consider that that was a possibility, but he thinks maybe his brain has been trying to block that thought out, because it hits him like a ton of bricks when she says it.

“And?” Even at a whisper he can hear the trembling in his voice.

“He said if he was, he wouldn’t be here right now.” Annie’s eyes are wide as she whispers.

“That’s...good? I guess?” Jeff replies. He’s not really sure what to do with this information, but it could definitely be worse.

“I know, but...oh, I don’t know.” Annie is pouting, and Jeff would find it funny in any other circumstance.

“Did you get any other information out of him?”

Annie shakes her head. “That conversation kind of...turned him into _that_ ,” she says, looking over at the bed. At first glance, it’s hard to even tell there’s a person there, it just looks like a pile of blankets.

A pile of blankets which starts to shift, and both Annie and Jeff dash over to the bed. A moment later, Abed’s face peeks out. He gazes at Annie until she takes a step closer to him.

“What did you tell Troy?” His eyes are intense and his voice is very, very quiet, but Annie hears him.

This is clearly not what Annie was expecting, and Jeff sees her hesitate only for a split second.

“I told him you were going to be fine,” she says. “I didn’t give him any details, though.”

“Thank you.”

“Also-he-said-he-loves-you,” she blurts out in a rush, and before anyone can react, Dr. Price walks into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

“Good afternoon,” Dr. Price says with a smile as she approaches the bed. “My name is Dr. Price. Are you Abed Nadir?” Jeff and Annie move away from the bedside to make room, but Jeff positions himself so Abed can still see him, which he appreciates. Abed is still wrapped in the blanket, and he nods his head and then braces himself, because he’s not ready to leave the cocoon but he’s fairly certain she’s going to ask him to. He has blocked everything else out of his head and tries to focus completely on the doctor, both to keep an eye on her because he doesn’t trust her, and because he can’t afford to let his mind wander right now.

She doesn’t ask him to come out.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Nadir.” She nods at him. Abed decides she has a friendly face, at least. “And nice to see you again, Mr. Winger,” she says to Jeff, who nods back at her.

“I’m Annie Edison,” another voice pops up, though Abed can’t see. “Another friend.”

“Nice to meet you,” the doctor says. “Mr. Nadir, are you okay with both of your friends staying in the room while we talk?”

She’s being remarkably considerate, so he tries to return the favor.

“You can call me Abed,” he says quietly, but above a whisper so she can hear him around the blankets. He wonders if his voice will ever sound normal again, or maybe it’s his ears that are messed up. It’s impossible to tell. “They can stay.”

“All right,” says the doctor. “Now, before anything else, Abed, I don’t need you to come out of your blanket, but I would like to check on the IV lines in your arm and make sure everything is secure. Do you think I could borrow your arm for just a moment? And then I promise we can get you wrapped back up.”

He takes what she says at face value, even though experience tells him she’s humoring him, because he doesn’t want to leave the blanket and she’s not making him and that’s all he cares about in this moment. So he carefully extracts his right arm from the blanket and holds it out for the doctor to see. The cooler air in the room feels nice; he didn’t realize how hot it was in the blanket. Still, he wraps it close to his body as she leans in. He holds his breath.

She glances at his arm but doesn’t touch it. Satisfied, she nods at him again.

“Thank you,” she says. “Everything looks good. You can have your arm back. I don’t think I need to examine anything else right now. Your vitals all seem fine,” she adds, glancing at the monitor.

“Is there…” Abed’s mouth is dry, but he’s wrapped back up in the quilt, and that’s a good thing. “Can you turn off the beeping on that monitor? Or turn it down? Or...something? It’s...it’s…” Abed can’t find the words, and he starts to get frustrated, but Dr. Price just smiles.

“Absolutely,” she says, and hits a couple of buttons underneath the screen.

The sound disappears. _The sound disappears_ , and Abed is so relieved he lets the blanket slide off of his head and settle around his shoulders. _An offering_ , he thinks, and hopes the doctor will understand.

She must, because she smiles a touch wider this time.

“Thank you,” rasps Abed, looking over her shoulder. She doesn’t try to catch his eye. _Who is this lady? Why is she so..._ nice?

Because what comes next is bad, it turns out.

“All right, Abed. I want to talk to you a little bit, okay? I need to ask you some questions and explain some things and tell you where we go from here.

Abed nods.

“First of all, did you try to kill yourself this morning, Abed?” She says it casually, like she’s asking him what time it is, and he actually appreciates this because it makes it easier to answer.

“No.”

“Have you ever tried to kill yourself?”

Time stands still and Abed changes his mind about her questions being easier to answer. He finds himself actually wishing Jeff and Annie weren’t in the room, but it’s too late to ask them to leave now, and he still doesn’t want to be alone with the doctor. He stares into space for a while, and the doctor waits patiently. Abed hears a shuffling sound and Dr. Price shakes her head just the slightest bit, and he assumes she is telling Annie not to come any closer, and he finds himself appreciating the doctor again despite the present situation.

“Yes.” He hears Jeff and Annie both gasp and tries to block it out and keeps his gaze fixed.

“When?”

“When I was fifteen.”

“What happened?”

“I took a lot of pills. I don’t remember what they were.”

“Did you receive psychiatric treatment?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I woke up two days later and no one had noticed so I pretended it never happened.”

Dr. Price pauses to write some things down. She hasn’t shown any emotion yet, and neither has Abed, and he thinks this is the ideal way to have this conversation, especially considering how Jeff and Annie are reacting.

“Jeff, go comfort Annie. I trust you won’t leave the room. I’d notice anyway, since I can hear her crying.” Jeff doesn’t say anything, but leaves Abed’s line of vision, and then he can hear Jeff and Annie whispering, and he tunes it out.

“How long have you been self-harming, Abed?”

“A few weeks,” he replies, even though he knows the exact number of days.

“How long since you had a full night’s sleep?”

“Since Tr--” His mouth slams shut. Annie and Jeff are suddenly silent. “A few weeks,” he amends.

Dr. Price doesn’t pry.

“How long since you ate a full meal?”

“I eat full meals.”

“How many times a day?”

Abed pulls the blanket back over his head.

The doctor gives him a few minutes to regroup, and then she closes her chart.

“Okay,” she says, unfazed. “I think that’s enough questions for right now. I want to explain a couple of things to you so we can make a plan moving forward.

Abed doesn’t respond.

“Do you know what an M1 hold is, Abed?”

“No,” says Abed, muffled through the blanket.

“Now, wait a minute,” starts Jeff. He doesn’t finish the thought and Dr. Price continues.

“It’s a 72 hour mental health hold,” she says. “It means we are concerned you are a danger to yourself or others, so we’re allowed to hospitalize you for up to 72 hours for observation.”

“I’m not--”

“It’s a legal process, Abed. And I’m telling you right now, I don’t want to put you through that.”

Abed waits.

“I want you to stay here voluntarily for 72 hours so we can keep you safe and also keep the legal part out of it. And after that observation, when we know you’re in a safer place and your stitches have healed a little, I want to recommend that we admit you to our psychiatric unit for a few weeks of intensive therapy. That part we can discuss later. I’ll leave you and your friends to talk about things, and you can let the nurse know your decision later today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dr. Price turns and walks out. Abed thinks he hears screaming coming from the hallway. The doctor closes the door behind her, and Abed realizes the sound is coming from him.

* * *

Annie and Jeff both rush to the side of the bed. Annie sits down and places her hands on the bed next to Abed, not touching him.

“ _Abed, Abed, Abed_ ,” she whispers, like a chant or a prayer. Jeff has his hands on his head and looks like he’s thinking a mile a minute. He starts to pace around the room, and Annie continues to whisper to Abed until he starts to quiet down, and then she starts to sing, and after a long while he takes a breath and then kind of collapses into himself on the bed. The blanket falls off his head again and Annie can see he’s been crying. Again.

“Don’t make me stay here,” Abed breathes, and Annie can barely hear him. She feels her heart breaking, and looks helplessly over to Jeff.

“Okay,” he says, coming back over to the bed. “This is what we’re going to do. No matter what, Abed, you are going to be here for 72 hours. Voluntary or involuntary. You and I are going to figure that part out right now. So, Annie, while we do that, why don’t you go back to the apartment and grab a bag of stuff for Abed.”

Annie nods.

“Bring my laptop and external hard drive please,” says Abed. He doesn’t look at her.

“Okay,” she says. “Text me if you think of anything else.” She gently pats Abed on the hand, then grabs her purse and bolts out the door.

* * *

Jeff sits down in the chair next to Abed. His thoughts are racing. He was a lawyer; of course he knows about the M1 hold, although he’s not convinced it applies here. But he also knows this is the safest place for Abed to be, so he doesn’t know that he could really argue against it with a clear conscience. So he decides it’s his job to convince Abed to stay voluntarily, and then they won’t have to turn it into a whole _thing_.

Easier said than done, of course. Abed hates hospitals.

“Jeff, I want to go home.” Abed’s voice is lifeless.

“I know,” Jeff says gently. “I know, Abed, but...look, you don’t want to get the law involved in this. You don’t want them to put you on a hold.”

“I want to go home.”

“You will,” Jeff says. “Just not, you know, _today_.”

“I want--”

“Abed. I know. I know you want to go home, and I know you’re scared, and I know this is the last place you expected to be today. I know that. And I’m sorry this is happening. But it’s kind of out of both of our control at this point, and the best we can do is admit you voluntarily so we at least get to keep _some_ of the control. Do you see what I’m saying? A legal hold takes away your rights. I promise you, you do not want that.”

Abed is silent.


	7. Chapter 7

> **EMAIL**
> 
> **FROM:** Barnes, Troy  
>  **TO:** Nadir, Abed  
>  **SUBJ:** !??!?!?!?!?!?
> 
> Hey, man.
> 
> Sorry I haven’t contacted you until now. Would you believe i’m just figuring out how to communicate with people while i’m on this trip? I finally realized it’s easier to use email, so that’s what i’m doing. Also I’m worried about you? And I know sometimes it’s easier for you to talk about things by writing them down.
> 
> No one will tell me what happened to you which makes me think it’s something big or bad. Or both. I’m going crazy worrying and honestly, i’d rather talk to you directly anyway because no one else understands our friendship.
> 
> I miss you so much, buddy. I’m on an adventure, but it’s not an adventure i want to be on without you. To be honest, there’s not really anything I want to do without you. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this trip, but what I do know is when I come home, I’m coming straight to you.
> 
> If you still want me to.
> 
> Please write back.
> 
> Love,  
> Troy

* * *

It’s evening. Annie has returned with some of Abed’s clothes, toiletries, comic books, and his laptop and external hard drive, which is full of movies and episodes of _Inspector Spacetime_. She sits down to show Abed everything she brought, and Jeff jumps up to go talk to the nurse, to tell him that Abed has agreed to stay voluntarily, which Abed isn’t happy about but begrudgingly agrees is the logical choice.

Then Abed boots up his laptop, opens his email, and finds one from Troy. It’s buried in his inbox, because he usually checks his email multiple times per day and today everything has just kind of built up, but his eyes are drawn straight to it. It’s the only one he opens.

He reads it straight through three times, and then he closes his laptop. He _will_ write back -- but not now. He has a more pressing matter to attend to.

“Jeff? Annie?” His hospital room is small enough that they are by his side immediately, despite the fact that his voice still sounds weird, quiet, Batman-like, only without a trace of strength or bravery.

“What’s up, Abed?” Jeff asks. He looks exhausted, so does Annie, and Abed thinks he can almost see the threads of shame spooling around him, tying themselves around his body, cutting into his skin.

“You’ve been here all day,” he says bluntly. “So has Annie.”

“Hey, I promised I’d stay with you,” Jeff says, but Abed shakes his head.

“That was before I was going to be here for three days,” he replies. “You have school. And you have a bed at home. There’s only one bed here and I’m in it.”

“I can stay,” Annie says, but Abed shakes his head again.

“You have homework,” he says. “I’m sure I’ve already kept you from doing most of it. And you have classes tomorrow, too.”

Jeff looks nervous. “Are you going to be okay here by yourself, Abed?”

“Doubtful. But that’s my issue, not yours.”

“Abed!” exclaims Annie. “Don’t you know we love you and we’re here for you?”

“Yes,” he says automatically, but that’s because he’s too distracted by those shame threads pulling tighter. He leans over and presses on his stitches again. He thinks the bandage might be coming loose, but he figures someone will be coming to clean it eventually and they can fix it. He presses again, experimentally, and then he feels a tug and a bolt of pain that makes him cry out without realizing it.

“Abed? What’s wrong?”

Abed doesn’t answer because he notices a small bloom of dark red on the left sleeve of his hospital gown and he zones out, his mind gone calm for a moment.

It sounds like Jeff is miles away when he curses and hits the call button for the nurse. Abed remains motionless. And then everything is quiet.

* * *

Jeff has noticed Abed favoring his left side a few times throughout the day, but he feels like a _fucking idiot_ when he realizes it’s because Abed has been messing with his stitches, making himself feel pain. Jeff should have foreseen this. He should have paid closer attention. _He should have been a better fucking friend to Abed_ , and then maybe none of this would be happening.

 _He tried to kill himself when he was a teenager_ , a voice in his head reminds him. _This is new for you, but it’s not new for him._

And then the nurse comes in and Jeff watches Annie ask Abed to explain _Inception_ to her as a distraction while the nurse cleans and re-bandages his arm. No one tells the nurse what happened, and the nurse doesn’t ask, and everyone seems a little relieved about that. Before he leaves, the nurse asks Abed if he’d like something to help him sleep.

Jeff knows Abed doesn’t like medicine. But he also hasn’t been sleeping.

“Yes,” Abed says. “But not yet.”

The nurse nods. “I’ll be back later,” he replies, and leaves the room.

“See,” says Abed, picking up their earlier conversation as though nothing has happened. “Now you guys can go home for the night and it won’t matter because I’ll be unconscious.” He’s speaking a little louder now, as if that will help him sound more convincing.

Jeff isn’t sure whether Abed is trying to convince himself or Jeff and Annie. He also doesn’t have a better solution, so he just nods.

“Okay…” Annie says. She glances down at her phone and her face lights up. “Okay! So, I’ve been texting Shirley and Britta, Abed, and they are going to come by tomorrow when they’re not in class. And Jeff and I will be here when we’re not in class. And hopefully we’ll have you covered for most of the day!”

Abed and Jeff speak at the same time.

“Shirley and Britta?” Abed asks. “They’re coming here?”

“I’ll skip my classes and come when no one else can,” Jeff says. “So you’re never alone. It’ll be fine. The dean will cover me. I need to talk to him about some other stuff, anyway.”

He assumes Abed didn’t hear him, because he doesn’t ask what the “other stuff” is, or maybe he can guess.

“Jeff, that’s a great idea,” Annie says. “And Abed, are you okay with Shirley and Britta coming? They miss you and want to see you. Maybe we can put a hoodie on you so they don’t see your arm? Would that help?”

“I guess that’s fine,” Abed replies, and Jeff considers that a testament to how badly Abed doesn’t want to be alone (while conscious) in the hospital.

“Great,” Jeff says. “I’ll coordinate my schedule with the girls and we’ll have it all figured out by tomorrow. And tonight, Annie and I will stay here until you fall asleep, okay?”

Abed nods and then turns his face away from them, and Jeff thinks maybe he is trying not to cry.

“It’s okay to let people help you,” Jeff whispers, unsure if Abed can even hear him.

“It’s weird that people want to,” Abed replies just as quietly, still facing the other direction.

* * *

Abed isn’t hungry when his dinner tray arrives, but this time when he argues with the nurse, she threatens to give him a feeding tube if he won’t eat. He reluctantly picks at the tray but there’s nothing on it he usually eats, and everything has a weird hospital-food texture, and nothing is the right temperature, and he is starting to feel the scream in the back of his throat when Annie steps in and convinces the nurse to let him have his buttered noodles instead, which she does as long as he promises to finish them. It takes him about an hour, but he finishes. It’s more than he’s eaten in one sitting in a very long time and he feels uncomfortably full afterwards, so he says yes when the nurse returns again to give him something to make him sleep.

After he feels the medicine flush through the IV, but before he drifts off to sleep, he grabs his laptop and writes one email. When he’s done, he turns on an episode of _Inspector Spacetime_ and says goodnight to Jeff and Annie, who stay until he is asleep. He thinks he feels Annie set the computer on the table, and then everything is finally dark and quiet.

* * *

> **EMAIL**
> 
> **FROM:** Nadir, Abed  
>  **TO:** Barnes, Troy  
>  **SUBJ:** RE: !??!?!?!?!?!?
> 
> Hello, Troy.
> 
> Thank you for your email. It’s really good to hear from you. I hope you’re enjoying your trip and remembering the proverbial jackpot that awaits you when you get home (in the form of Pierce’s inheritance).
> 
> I have to stay in the hospital for three days. And maybe go somewhere else after that. I’m fighting that one. The members of the study group are keeping me company whenever they’re able. I don’t like to be alone with doctors. (I know you knew that already.)
> 
> This is a new character arc for me, and one I was unprepared for. I am trying to navigate things the best I can. I don’t enjoy unfamiliar situations. (I know you knew that already, too.)
> 
> Troy, I promise you I am trying my best to tell you the truth about what is going on with me, but I am physically having trouble typing out the words because every time I try it feels so bad, like when it’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep and everything is dark and quiet and I’m all alone and nothing is right and nothing will ever be right again. And maybe the floor is also lava and I have nowhere to go to escape it. It feels that way every time I try to explain, and then I can’t breathe and then I shut down and I’ll never finish this email if I keep shutting down. (I hope you know what I’m trying to say.)
> 
> You can ask me questions if you want. (I promise to answer and I promise not to lie).
> 
> I miss you. I wish your trip could be a 5 minute montage of you having fun on a boat, and maybe some flags or a map superimposed on top, something to show your progress, probably with a mid-90s pop song playing, and then you’d be home again. (Why does real life move so slowly sometimes? And so quickly other times?)
> 
> I still want you to come home. (I still want you.)
> 
> Love,  
> Abed


	8. Chapter 8

Alone in his apartment, Jeff sleeps so poorly he almost wishes he’d just stayed at the hospital with Abed. His thoughts are all over the place, and he keeps thinking something bad will happen while he’s away. The worst part is, he knows he’s being irrational. He just can’t manage to stop.

He gets up extra early, makes coffee, and then drives to Greendale where he makes a beeline for Dean Pelton’s office. He lets himself in, and the dean jumps a mile and slams his laptop shut.

“Jeffrey!” he exclaims. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeff can’t fathom how on earth anyone could have this kind of energy first thing in the morning, when he’s on his third cup of coffee and still feels like falling over.

“It’s about Abed…”

He trails off and the dean jumps right in. 

“Is he okay? Do you know what happened? We got the supply closet cleaned up. Do you know when he’ll be back? Are _you_ okay, Jeffrey? Yesterday must have been so traumatic for you.”

It looks like the dean is leaning in for a hug, so Jeff takes a step backwards and turns away from him.

“I need permission to miss some classes,” Jeff says shortly. “Abed can’t be alone at the hospital.”

“Oh, is that one of his... _things_?” The dean whispers the last word with a knowing look on his face, and Jeff tries to remind himself that punching people doesn’t solve problems.

“Do I have your permission or not?”

“Of _course_ you do, Jeffrey! You have to be there for your friend!” He reaches over to try to touch Jeff, and Jeff takes a step to the side. He feels like he’s square dancing.

“Good. I mean, thank you. I have another question, and it’s completely hypothetical.”

The dean raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“What would you do if one of your instructors handcuffed a student to a file cabinet?”

The dean’s eyes bug out and he’s speechless, which Jeff thinks might actually be a first. Before he can respond, Jeff continues.

“And what if, hypothetically speaking, the instructor cuffed the student so tightly it drew blood?”

“Jeffrey, who--”

“It’s a hypothetical question,” Jeff reminds him, and then stares silently at the dean, waiting to see what he says.

“I...need to look into that further, I think,” the dean murmurs.

“You do that,” Jeff replies. “I’ll see you later.” The dean is silent and Jeff walks out of his office.

He has a class in 30 minutes, but instead of going to the study room he heads back to his car and drives to the hospital. Britta is supposed to be there when Abed wakes up, but Jeff thinks it couldn’t hurt for him to be there as a buffer.

As it happens, he arrives before Britta, just as Abed is waking up.

“Good morning,” he says, and Abed just kind of stares at him and yawns. He’s not much of a morning person. Both of them are silent for a minute.

Something occurs to Jeff, and he reaches over and grabs Abed’s hoodie. The one Annie brought him last night, not the one he tied around Abed’s arm yesterday. He doesn’t know what happened to that one, which is maybe for the best.

“Want me to help you put this on before Britta gets here?” he asks, and he winces at the fake chipper sound of his voice. It’s not fooling him and it won’t fool Abed either.

“Yes, please,” Abed says, and it takes the two of them longer than expected to get it on. They end up draping it awkwardly around Abed’s right arm, which still has an IV sticking out of it, but they’re able to cover the bandaged arm. Jeff isn’t confident that Abed will be able to convince Britta he’s here for simple exhaustion, but he figures he’ll do what he can to help.

When they’ve finished, Abed sighs and Jeff smiles and then there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Is everybody decent?” Britta calls.

“Come on in,” Jeff replies after a quick glance at Abed, who nods once.

* * *

Britta knows Abed hates hospitals, and she understands because she also hates hospitals. She wouldn’t be here, except she’s worried about Abed and wants to see for herself that he’s all right. Jeff told her yesterday that Abed had passed out from exhaustion, and then Annie told her that Abed was going to be there for three days, and something about that didn’t sound right. Not to mention, after the ambulance left Greendale yesterday they roped off the hallway next to the supply closet for cleaning, and why would they need to clean just because someone fainted in there?

It wasn’t until right before she fell asleep that her brain made the connection. Three days is 72 hours. Every psych major knows the significance of 72 hours. _Is Abed on an M1 hold?_ _What did Abed do?_

Her mind is full of these thoughts as she steps into the room to find Abed in bed and Jeff standing next to him. Neither of them looks particularly perky. Britta is pretty sure Jeff went home only to sleep last night before coming back. Abed has big circles under his eyes, and even though he’s wrapped in a hoodie over his hospital gown, he looks positively scrawny. Britta notices Annie’s quilt on the bed, and that makes her smile, because of course Annie would bring her quilt over first thing.

“Hey, Abed!” she says brightly. She walks over to stand next to Jeff, who gives her shoulder a quick squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he says automatically. Almost robotically, Britta thinks. 

“Are you lying?” Britta narrows her eyes at him. This usually works with Abed.

“I’ve been better,” he admits. He’s looking up at the ceiling.

“So, what happened?” she asks quickly, and before Abed can respond, Jeff butts in.

“I already told you what happened, Britta,” he says sternly.

“I know, but I want to know what _actually_ happened, because I think you’re leaving something out, and I’d like to hear it from Abed.”

Jeff glares at her, and she’s ready for him to hit her with some version of _you’re the worst_ when Abed speaks up.

“Why do you think Jeff is leaving something out?” He sounds both wary and curious.

“Because I can tell when you guys are lying,” she says, and both Jeff and Abed raise their eyebrows at her, and neither says a word.

“Because I don’t understand why the janitor was cleaning the supply closet?” she adds. This time Abed shudders a little and Jeff looks away from her, but still, neither of them speak.

She crosses her arms and waits until she can’t take the silence anymore.

“Because you’re obviously here on a 72 hour psych hold!” she bursts out. Now Abed and Jeff are both staring at her, and she’s embarrassed but not repentant, because the look on Jeff’s face tells her she’s correct. Abed’s is carefully blank.

“I’m not on a 72 hour psych hold,” Abed says flatly.

Britta stares at him and says nothing. Abed has been staring over her left shoulder. Now he flicks his gaze and makes eye contact with her for the briefest of moments, then closes his eyes.

“I’m staying voluntarily so they don’t put me on a hold,” he mutters, and Britta honestly isn’t sure she’s ever heard Abed mutter anything before. She feels guilty and triumphant at the same time.

“Okay,” she says, and tries to use her best therapist voice. “That’s good, we’re making progress. Now--”

“Stop using your therapist voice,” Abed snaps, and now he sounds more like regular Abed, just a little more frail and raspy.

“Sorry,” she says. Then she thinks, _go big or go home, I guess_. “So did you try to kill yourself, or what?”

“Britta!” exclaims Jeff. “What the hell?”

“No,” Abed replies, at the same time. 

Britta ignores Jeff, who keeps glancing over at Abed as if to make sure he’s okay.

“Then what?” she asks.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Abed says. “The suicide question was a good example.”

It takes all of Britta’s willpower not to roll her eyes.

“Did you hurt yourself, Abed?”

Abed nods.

“How did you hurt yourself?”

Abed shakes his head.

“Okay. Did you cut yourself?”

Abed nods.

“Badly?”

“Stitches,” he whispers.

“Did you cut your wrists?”

“I already told you I didn’t attempt suicide.” He actually _does_ roll his eyes at her, which makes Britta want to laugh until he gingerly pulls his left arm out of his hoodie and pushes up the short sleeve.

“Oh, Abed,” she breathes, and her eyes fill with tears.

* * *

Abed has made Britta cry, and now he is panicking. He wonders if it is possible to literally _drown in shame_. He shoves his arm back in the sleeve, appreciating the sharp pain as he carelessly yanks it up over his shoulder. Then he grabs Annie’s quilt and wraps it around himself, pulling so tightly that he worries for a second that he might rip it. He buries his head in the blanket until there is nothing but darkness. His breath is coming quick and shallow and he is dizzy and shaking. He feels like he’s hurtling through space at 100 miles an hour with no space suit. Floating along some kind of current with no control at all. He has no idea how long he’s been screaming.

Suddenly he is surrounded by pressure on all sides, squeezing him and grounding him, and he doesn’t know what it is at first but it keeps squeezing and pretty soon he hears himself begin to quiet down inside and out.

* * *

Britta has exiled herself in the corner, still crying, when Jeff lunges towards the bed. He isn’t really thinking clearly. All he knows is he needs to _do something._ He is moving purely on instinct when he sits down behind Abed and wraps his arms around his body, though he has the presence of mind to avoid his arms as much as he can. He squeezes Abed tighter and tighter, and soon Abed’s screams become more like cries, and then like sighs, and Jeff begins to rock him very carefully, back and forth, back and forth, until Abed is silent and Jeff can feel him breathing steadily. And even then, Jeff holds on, waiting for Abed to tell him what he needs.


	9. Chapter 9

Abed starts to feel himself drift off to sleep, which doesn’t make sense because didn’t he just wake up? He hears a voice, a nurse maybe, asking if everything is okay, and then he hears Jeff’s voice say that everything is fine, and that’s when he realizes Jeff is the one holding him. This seems remarkably out of character for Jeff. But then, so does a lot of what’s happened over the past 22 hours or so. Abed realizes that while he always thought of Jeff as his friend, he never thought of him as _this_ kind of friend before. The kind you go to in a crisis.

Abed has never really had a friend to go to in a crisis, except for Troy, but that was always more implied. Troy could usually get him out of a dark place before things turned into a crisis, and anyway, Abed has never gone this dark before, not since he was a teenager, and that was a different life, before he had any friends, when he spent his time alone, or shoved in a locker, or in his bedroom, wrapped in a blanket exactly the way he is now, or back when he was a kid listening to his parents shouting outside his room and knowing they are shouting because of _him,_ and one day the shouting finally stopped but that’s also when his mom left, and after that when the shouting started again it was straight to his face, so the margin of error was gone and this was _definitely all his fault_.

And now here he is again, open and vulnerable and shattered, and all that embarrassment and shame that he thought he was rid of has come back in full force, like a dam has broken and there’s all this built-up pressure and he can’t keep his head above the water.

 _Is that what friends do? Help you keep your head above the water?_ And if it is, what does it say about him, because he really can’t tell if he is a good friend, or a true friend, and if he’s kept anyone from drowning he certainly didn’t notice it, maybe didn’t even intend to do it. Suddenly this whole thing feels very one-sided and a part of him is compelled to pull out of Jeff’s embrace, except he’s still so tired and scared that he thinks maybe he’ll just come back to that a little later.

Abed falls asleep thinking about paintball and hot lava and a boat called _Childish Tycoon_.

* * *

After Jeff reassures the nurse that Abed is fine and lets her drop off a tray of food that Abed probably won’t eat, Britta sits down in the chair next to the bed and puts her head in her hands. What kind of friend is she, that she came to visit Abed and broke him instead? What kind of _therapist_ is she going to be, when she was oblivious to Abed’s struggle until he ended up in the hospital, and now that he’s here she made things even worse? _I really am the worst,_ she thinks, sitting up and looking at Jeff and Abed.

Jeff cranes his head toward Britta, obviously trying not to jar Abed, and she leans in toward them.

“This is not your fault,” he says with a quiet urgency. “You need to know that, okay? I know that look on your face because I know sometimes when we tell you that you’re the worst, you’re dumb enough to believe us. But Britta, I need you to remember these words, because I probably won’t ever say them again. _You are not the worst_. And this is not. Your. Fault.”

Britta’s eyes are full of tears again because she doesn’t know how to react to the words, she feels like Matt Damon in _Good Will Hunting_ , which makes her hiccup with laughter because that’s such an Abed thought, but then the laugh turns into a sob because she’s needed to hear these words for a long time and not just in reference to Abed. 

“You don’t have to feel guilty for showing emotions,” Jeff says softly, “and I know you know that already. Everything is going to be fine. Every _one_ is going to be fine _._ ”

“How am I going to be a therapist if I cry whenever something bad happens to someone?” Britta murmurs, almost to herself, but Jeff hears.

“Britta. Look at me.”

She looks, eyes wide, because his voice is sharp.

“There is a reason,” he says slowly, maintaining eye contact, like he’s speaking to a child, “that it is _extremely unethical_ for therapists to practice on their friends. They...they _must_ teach you that, right?”

Britta nods begrudgingly. 

“So just...stop trying to be a therapist right now and _be a friend_. I know you’re good at that. I’ve seen it. And if that means it hurts you to see your friend in pain and your body’s response is to tear up, that’s okay. That’s normal. Yes, Abed is going through some shit right now. But he is going to get through it - we are all going to get through it. Together.”

He keeps looking at Britta, waiting for a response, for confirmation that she’s understood. She gives him a weak smile.

“Thanks, Jeff. I, uh...I should get going. I have class soon, and Shirley should be here any minute.”

“Will you be back later?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will,” she says, and knows it’s true. She won’t run away from her friend. The funny, quirky Abed she knows is still in there somewhere. She misses him.

“Jeff, when he wakes up, will you tell him I’m sorry?”

“I’ll tell him,” Jeff assures her. “See you later.”

Britta waves and walks out the door.

* * *

Shirley steps into Abed’s hospital room and sees Jeff attempting to disentangle himself from a sleeping Abed. She sets a Tupperware on the table and jumps in, gently lifting Abed’s shoulders so Jeff can move, and then tucks him in carefully as Jeff stands up and stretches. Abed stirs but doesn’t wake.

“Thanks, Shirley,” Jeff says quietly.

“Anything for my boys,” she says, smiling, and takes a seat. “How is he?”

“He’ll be okay,” Jeff replies. “He’s going to be here for a couple more days.”

“That’s what Annie said. Is there anything I can do? For him or for you?” She rests her hand gently on Jeff’s arm.

“Um,” Jeff says, and Shirley notices that he is struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Jeffrey,” she says in a kind but commanding voice. “Honey, why don’t you go home and get some rest? I’ll stay with Abed. I don’t mind.”

Jeff looks up at the ceiling, then down at the floor, and then it’s like all the air has drained out of him, and he just nods.

“I’ll, uh…I’ll be back soon,” he says roughly. “Oh. When he wakes up, will you tell him Britta says she’s sorry?”

“Of course I will. Now, go, and take your time,” she says, and ushers him out the door before he can say anything else.

She looks at Abed, how small and fragile he seems. She guesses she was too preoccupied with her own nonsense to notice that he was struggling, and she promises to be better about that in the future. She doesn’t understand Abed, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him.

Shirley reaches into her purse and pulls out a small book of prayers for healing. She doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, and she figures it’s probably none of her business, since the Lord certainly already knows what Abed needs. She begins to read aloud, keeping her voice soft enough not to wake him. 

* * *

Abed keeps his eyes closed when he wakes up, trying to hold on to the brief moment before he remembers where he is and why. As soon as that illusion of peace is shattered he notices a voice next to him, and it’s not Jeff.

It’s Shirley, and she’s...praying? 

Abed doesn’t pay any attention to what she’s saying, because he’s sure it won’t mean anything to him, and that’s okay. Instead he lets the words wash over him and focuses on the cadence of her voice, warm and rich. It’s remarkably soothing. 

After several minutes, he lets his eyes flutter open and looks at her.

“Good morning, Abed!” Shirley stops reading and smiles over at him. He’s surprised to find she looks exactly like Regular Shirley, not the Worried or Concerned version of Shirley, the way it’s been with his other friends. He’s relieved. He wonders if she looks at him and sees Regular Abed or Broken Abed, but he doesn’t ask.

“You can keep praying,” he says. “I wasn’t actually listening to the words, but I like the sound of your voice.”

He’s prepared for her to argue, to tell him he should be paying attention, or to start asking him questions about what happened and how he’s feeling, but she doesn’t do any of that. She just smiles.

“You let me know if you need anything, honey,” she says. “Oh. And Jeff said to tell you that Britta says she’s sorry.” 

She picks up the book and starts reading aloud where she left off.

Abed lets Shirley’s voice surround him, like Annie’s quilt, like Jeff’s arms, like a cocoon. He notices a box of her brownies on the table, breaks off a piece of one, lifts it to his mouth. There’s an odd feeling in his chest, and he thinks maybe it’s hope.


	10. Chapter 10

> **EMAIL**
> 
> **FROM:** Barnes, Troy
> 
> **TO:** Nadir, Abed
> 
> **SUBJ:** RE: RE: !??!?!?!?!?!?
> 
> Hey Abed.
> 
> I’m so glad you wrote back. It turns out we’ll be in port for the next few days, so I was hoping maybe I could call you sometime. Does it matter when? Do you have your cell phone? Let me know. In case we don’t get to talk, though, I’m gonna ask you some questions anyway. I have a lot of them but I’m going to limit it to 5. Don’t get offended by my questions, though, okay? I’m figuring that if you had a broken leg or something someone would have just told me that, so i’m assuming it’s something darker than that?
> 
> From the way you described your feelings, i’m thinking things aren’t great for you right now, and I’m worried because i remember when you told me about that thing you tried when you were like 15 and even though we never talked about it again I never forgot about it. Because I don’t think those kinds of thoughts just go away? Like maybe ever?
> 
>   1. Did you try that thing again?
>   2. Did you do something else that is maybe not great for you, whether it was on purpose or not on purpose? Sorry, that’s really vague. I’m asking if you hurt yourself, okay?
>   3. Have you been eating and sleeping? When I write that out it looks like I’m accusing you and I’m not, I’m really asking, because I know those things are hard for you sometimes. Stupid email. 
>   4. When you say they want you to go somewhere else next, is that like a rehab thing? 
>   5. Do you need me to come home? Because I will. I’ll figure something out with this stupid boat and I will come to you. You have to tell me though.
> 

> 
> Let me know about the phone call. 
> 
> Love,
> 
> Troy
> 
> P.S. Bonus question.
> 
> 6\. When I tell you I love you and you tell me you still want me, we’re saying the same thing to each other, right? 
> 
> Like...it’s different than it used to be. Right?

* * *

> **EMAIL**
> 
> **FROM:** Nadir, Abed
> 
> **TO:** Barnes, Troy
> 
> **SUBJ:** RE: RE: RE: !??!?!?!?!?!?
> 
> Dear Troy,
> 
> You can call anytime. My phone has been off for awhile, but I’ll turn it on and keep it charged. 
> 
> I’m going to answer your questions now, because it’s easier.
> 
>   1. No.
>   2. Yes.
>   3. No.
>   4. Probably. I haven’t asked for clarification yet.
>   5. We should save this one for the phone call.
> 

> 
> Talk to you soon.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Abed
> 
> P.S.
> 
> 6\. I hope so.
> 
> Yes.

* * *

Annie heads to the hospital after her morning classes and runs into Jeff in the lobby. He seems like he’s gotten some sleep, which is good.

“How was he this morning?” Annie asks. She’s been in class all day, though she already can’t recall a thing she learned, and she’s glad she still records all of her lectures. Last night was strange, staying in the apartment all by herself. She’s gotten used to having a roommate, even if that roommate was just Abed sitting in front of the television around the clock, the way it’s been for the last few weeks. 

“Things with Britta were...not great,” Jeff admits. “It kind of ended in a meltdown. She’s going to try to come back this afternoon, though.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Annie knows Britta means well, but she can be a little intense, especially when she’s trying to play therapist.  _ Especially  _ especially when she’s trying to play therapist with Abed.

“I actually do,” Jeff says, shrugging. “After the meltdown Abed fell asleep and then Britta and I talked a little bit and...I think it helped. I think it’s worth another try.”

“Okay,” Annie replies, withholding judgement.

They pause outside Abed’s room.

“He was asleep when I left,” Jeff says. “Shirley is probably still here. I wonder how it went.”

Annie is a little nervous, because Shirley can be as overbearing as Britta (okay, and Annie too, if she’s honest), only in a different way. 

Jeff opens the door, and Annie is right behind him. Abed is awake, sitting up in bed with his laptop in front of him. Shirley is in the chair next to the bed, reading aloud from... _ the Bible? _ Both of them look completely at peace, and Annie claps her hand over her mouth before she can ruin the moment with a loud, “Aww!”

Abed and Shirley both look up anyway. Shirley smiles, and Abed doesn’t, but he still looks content, so Annie smiles too.

“Jeffrey, you look like you got some rest,” Shirley says.

“I did,” he replies. “Thank you. What, uh…” He clears his throat. “How’s it going, guys?”

“We’re doing just fine, aren’t we, Abed?”

Abed nods. “Shirley reading aloud relaxes me. It’s very soothing. She finished the prayer book and I think we’re on the Bible now.”

“You think?” Jeff snorts.

“I’m not listening to the words,” Abed explains. “It’s the literal sound of her voice that I find soothing.” He shrugs. “I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

“Oh, Abed!” Annie exclaims. She would do anything to help him feel better. “Can I give you a hug?”

“No,” Abed says quickly. “You can hold my hand, though. If it’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m trying to make  _ you _ feel better,” she clarifies.

“It’s probably going to be awhile before I can tolerate a hug.” Abed’s eyes fall on Jeff, who looks embarassed. “That excludes what you did this morning, Jeff. I give you permission to do that again if the circumstance arises in the future. Which, judging by how things have been going, it certainly will. But only if that’s something you feel comfortable with. Please don’t put yourself in an uncomfortable position on my account. Also, I didn’t get a chance to thank you for what you did. Thank you.”

Abed hasn’t spoken this many words at once in quite a while, and everyone in the room seems to be aware of this, because they’re all silent for a moment. Then everyone speaks at the same time.

“Jeff, what did you do?”

“You’re welcome, Abed, anytime.”

“Would anyone like a brownie?”

* * *

Neither question gets answered, because right then the doctor enters the room. Abed lays back on the bed.

“Hello, Abed,” she says brightly. “I’m glad you have so many friends visiting. But the room is getting a little crowded now that I’m here, would you agree?”

Abed nods and looks at his friends. “Jeff can stay,” he says. “Shirley, thank you for reading and brownies. Annie, sorry you just got here, but you can come back later if you want.”

Annie and Shirley say goodbye and exit the room, and Jeff sits down next to the bed.

“Thank you, Abed,” Dr. Price says. “Now...how are you doing today? The nurse reported you had a bit of a difficult morning.”

“Jeff fixed it,” Abed says. He hopes she won’t make him explain what happened, because he doesn’t think he possesses the vocabulary.

Dr. Price raises an eyebrow at Jeff, who shrugs.

“When he has a...meltdown, or whatever, he wraps himself really tight in this blanket. I figured it was the pressure that helped, so I squeezed him to give him more pressure. And it helped.”

“Great thinking,” she says. “Abed, have you ever used a weighted blanket?”

Abed shakes his head.

“I’m going to see if I can find one you can try,” she murmurs, and writes something down on the chart. “Anyway. I’m glad you decided to stay voluntarily. Tonight you’ll be halfway there.” 

Abed already knows this. He’s been keeping track. 

“All right. I know we didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night, so let me explain a few more things. First of all, later this afternoon or evening a social worker is going to come talk to you. Preferably alone,” she says, raising an eyebrow at Jeff, who shrugs again. “What do you think about that, Abed?”

“Can Jeff stand right outside the door?”

“I think that would be fine,” she says. Jeff nods. 

“Okay.”

“Excellent. I appreciate your cooperation, Abed, I really do. The social worker is going to talk to you about what’s going on, and also give you more information about what comes next.”

“Troy is going to call me. What happens if Troy calls me while the social worker is here? I can’t tell him when not to call if I don’t know when they’re going to be here.”

“Troy?” Jeff sputters. He’s been silent until now. Dr. Price ignores him.

“I think if you mention that to the social worker up front, they’ll be willing to work with you.”

Abed nods, satisfied. Jeff doesn’t say anything, but narrows his eyes at Abed. Not in a mean way. In a Jeff way.

“How have you been sleeping?” Dr. Price asks.

“I slept all night,” Abed says. “And some more this morning after the...meltdown.” He doesn’t like that word, but he doesn’t have an adequate replacement. It is what it is, even if he hates saying it.

“That’s wonderful. Nap as much as you need to. Remember that you’re here to get well, even though it might not feel like it.”

Abed shrugs.

“How about eating?”

“I ate a brownie. Shirley brought it.” It was the first time in days that his stomach hadn’t been completely tied up in knots.

“Is that all you’ve eaten today?” The doctor looks concerned.

“Yes. It’s not lunchtime yet.”

“A brownie isn’t breakfast, though.” Now she is frowning and Abed doesn’t understand why. He ate, didn’t he?

“It seemed better than nothing.” He stares up at the ceiling.

“Abed, have you ever spoken to anyone about having an eating disorder?” Her voice is softer. Abed continues to look straight up.

“I don’t have an eating disorder.” He’s seen eating disorder character arcs on television. He’s never had a fear of being fat. None of this has ever had anything to do with his weight.

“Have you spoken to anyone about having issues with food?”

“I only have issues with certain foods. And no.”

Dr. Price purses her lips and seems to come to a decision.

“Okay. Here’s the thing, Abed. You’re quite underweight right now, because you’re not eating enough. I need you to eat three real meals a day. If you can’t do that, we’re going to have to give you a feeding tube. And you can trust me when I say no one wants that to happen."

Abed doesn’t trust any doctors, but he decides not to tell Dr. Price that. 

“Can I eat buttered noodles?” Annie has already brought some, and he’s sure she can bring more.

“For every meal?”

“Lucky Charms for breakfast.” Annie can bring those, too.

“Is this how you eat normally?” Abed glances down to see that she looks exasperated. It’s a look he’s definitely familiar with. He doesn’t really understand why, because _ of course  _ this is how he eats normally, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking.

“Yup.”

“Okay. Yes, you can eat buttered noodles and Lucky Charms. But also, in addition to the social worker who’s coming to see you, I’m sending a nutritionist.”

Abed shrugs.

“I think that’s all for now, Abed. I’ll see you tomorrow. A nurse will be coming by sometime today to change the dressings on your arm. Oh, and I'll try to find out about that blanket.”

“Goodbye.”

Dr. Price leaves the room and Jeff turns to look at Abed.

“I think it’s time for us to talk about some stuff,” Jeff says, and Abed knows not to argue with that tone of voice.


	11. Chapter 11

Jeff watches Abed wrap himself securely in Annie’s quilt as if preparing for battle. Jeff supposes maybe that’s really how it feels for Abed, getting ready to have this conversation, and he thinks if their roles were reversed he might be searching for his own version of armor. Probably in the form of a _lot_ of scotch. 

He thinks about his life before Greendale, before he learned to care about other people, when he could interrogate a witness to tears without blinking an eye. He thinks maybe life was easier then, but it’s _better_ now. He knows he’s a better person now, even though the thought makes him cringe a little bit. He thinks about the first time he met Abed, what Abed was like and what Jeff was like, and what they’re like today, here, in this room. 

“Okay,” Abed says, snapping Jeff back into reality. “I guess I’m ready now. To talk.” He has his knees folded up to his chest under the blanket, like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible, or maybe he’s trying to disappear.

“Relax, Abed,” Jeff says, but he tries to make his voice gentle. “I just feel like you’ve been through a lot and we’ve kind of briefly touched on what’s going on but we haven’t had a chance to actually discuss anything and…and you’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want to help you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Abed sighs. “I just…I’ve never talked about most of this. To anyone. Ever. And if I have, it’s been to Troy. And he’s...it’s different with Troy, because he can kind of read my mind, I think. So I don’t know how to have this conversation. I don’t even know if I have the right words. Do you ever, get, like, tongue-tied? I don’t know if that’s what it’s called. When you try to say something and you physically can’t form the words?”

“I think that is what it’s called, but no. I’ve never experienced that.”

“Okay. Well, I get like that sometimes, when I’m trying to explain a thing, usually a feeling. It happens less frequently than it used to, I guess? Because I learned that I can quote a movie or do a bit or play a character and then I can express what I need to without saying it as myself, and somehow it un-ties my tongue. Or something.”

Suddenly a lot of things about the last five years make a lot more sense to Jeff. And he's seeing the Dreamatorium in a whole new light.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I can’t do that here. With this. I don’t have references or bits or characters, so I’m stuck without a voice, and all these emotions are strangling me, and after a while there are only a few things that will make it stop. Make it so I can breathe.” Abed’s eyes are wide and desperate. His knuckles are white from gripping the blanket so tightly, and he’s trembling a little.

“Pain makes it stop,” Jeff says quietly.

Abed nods.

“And Troy?”

Abed closes his eyes and nods again.

“Anything else?”

“It’s, um…” Abed’s voice is hoarse and Jeff can see him struggling to get the words out. “When I don’t eat, it kind of...makes me _feel_ less?” He shakes his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes sense,” Jeff replies.

“I don’t think I’ve made that connection before. Until just now. Don’t tell Britta. I never made a single breakthrough when she was trying to therapize me.”

“That’s because Britta was a friend trying to be a therapist, and I’m a friend trying to be a friend. I talked to her about that, by the way. She’s probably going to come by again this afternoon.”

“Okay,” Abed says. 

“Did something happen, Abed?” Jeff asks, changing gears a little. “To, you know, trigger all this? Because you’ve been fine for...years, right? I mean, none of us have seen this before.”

“I get dark sometimes,” Abed says. “I just don’t show it. I stay home for a few days and avoid everyone. Troy used to be able to pull me out of it before it got to this point. I haven’t been _this_ bad in a long time, though.”

“Does your dad know about this?” Jeff asks, cringing internally, but it seems like necessary information.

“More or less,” Abed replies. “I mean, he knows something’s wrong with me, he’s always known that. But he thinks that it’s my fault.” He pauses. “That didn’t come out right. It _is_ my fault. But he thinks it’s a malicious thing. Like I act the way I do for the specific purpose of making life worse for other people. And the fact that I'm still this way as an adult is like a personal affront to him, like if I wanted to not be this way I could, but I’m choosing to anyway, which is maybe true, but…”

“Abed. Abed. Stop.” Jeff is horrified. “Do you really believe this is your fault and you could change if you...if you _wanted it enough_?”

“Yes.” Abed looks confused, like he can’t understand why Jeff’s brain is exploding. 

Jeff is thinking, _Is this what dads are actually like? Have I actually been better off_ without _mine?_

“Why did you attempt suicide when you were a teenager, Abed?”

“Because I knew I would never be enough,” he shrugs. “I knew there was something wrong with me and I knew I’d never be able to fix it. And everything felt too big and too much. Like, feelings, but also sensations. Sometimes sounds are too loud and lights are too bright and it’s like I have Spidey-senses. But not in a good way, it’s overwhelming and feels impossible. Also, I fell in love with a boy who turned out to be a bully, so…”

“Wait, what? Abed, are you gay?” Jeff tones his voice down, not wanting Abed to think he’s disapproving. He’s just surprised.

“I don’t know. Probably not. I’ve dated both boys and girls and I don’t think I really prefer one gender to another.” Abed actually seems more comfortable with this line of questioning, and Jeff runs with it.

“Were you and Troy dating?” 

“Nope.”

“Do you have feelings for him?” 

“Yup.”

“Does he know?” 

Abed pauses, then nods. “I think so.”

“Does he reciprocate those feelings?”

Another pause. “I think so.”

Jeff has many more questions, but just then the door opens and a nurse walks in pushing a cart.

* * *

“Four things,” the nurse says to Abed. “I need to check your IV. I need to check your dressings on your arm. The doctor ordered this weighted blanket, so we’ll try that out afterwards. And it’s lunchtime. Do you want me to warm your noodles up?”

“Yes please,” Abed says. He’s curious about the blanket. And relieved not to have to fight with anyone about his meal this time. 

“I’ll do that last,” the nurse says, and Abed nods.

“Jeff,” he says. “Can we consider our discussion over forever?”

“It’s over for now,” Jeff says. His eyes are narrowed but Abed is pretty sure he’s trying not to laugh.

“Good. I need you to discuss something else with me.”

“What do you need to discuss?”

“Just anything else that will distract me while she does this stuff,” Abed says, tilting his head toward the nurse. “I don’t like…”

“Being touched, I know,” Jeff says. “No problem. Do you want to, uh…tell me about... _Inspector Spacetime?_ ”

“Yes,” Abed says, eyes wide. Jeff never lets him talk about _Inspector Spacetime_. Jeff is giving him a gift. He launches into a description of one of his favorite episodes, trying to remember as many details as possible so he doesn’t notice the nurse’s hands all over his arms. 

A few minutes later she finishes, and Abed is relieved because despite the distraction, he feels like his skin is crawling. He starts to squirm, and Jeff gives him an odd look, and then the nurse comes over and carefully lays a very heavy blanket on top of him.

The relief is _instantaneous._ It’s like how he feels when Troy lays on him, only the pressure is uniform and everywhere. He slides down a little until the blanket is up to his neck, his arms at his sides.

“Better?” the nurse asks.

“Yes,” breathes Abed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let the doctor know it’s working for you,” she says. “You can keep it while you’re in here. And you can buy one once you leave. They sell them all over the place.”

Abed knows this; he’s not unfamiliar with the existence of weighted blankets. He’d just never had the chance to try one until now. Which is too bad, because he could have used this...well, _always._

Abed lays still for a few minutes, relishing the sensation, until the nurse comes back and sets a bowl of buttered noodles on the table. 

“Finish all of it, okay?” she says, somewhat somehow stern and kind at the same time, and Abed nods. The nurse leaves, and Abed carefully pulls his arms out from under the blanket. Jeff pushes the table over to Abed’s lap so Abed can reach the fork.

He takes a bite of noodles, and it's fine, he guesses, and then he hears a sound and looks up and Britta is in the doorway, a shy look on her face.

“Am I interrupting?” she asks.

Abed thinks about what Jeff said earlier, about Britta being his friend instead of his therapist.

“Nope,” he says. “Come have lunch with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Right after I wrote the part about the weighted blanket, my cat destroyed mine and I had to throw it away :(
> 
> Update: I got a new one a few weeks later and it has pictures of superheroes on it and I feel like Abed would be totally into that.


	12. Chapter 12

Britta walks over to the bed and Jeff gets up from his seat. 

“Why don’t I go grab some food for you and me, Britta? And you and Abed can talk for a minute? You can have the chair.” He’s gone before Britta can protest, which is good because she’s actually pretty nervous about being here.

“Hey, Abed,” she says. “I, uh...I’m sorry about this morning.”

“I know,” Abed replies, pushing some noodles around on his plate. “Shirley told me that Jeff told her to tell me that you said you were sorry.” He frowns. “I think that’s right.”

“Okay…” 

“I don’t think Shirley knows what you did. Unless Jeff told her. But it turns out she’s pretty good about not asking too many questions. I mean, under certain conditions.”

“Well, that’s good to know, I guess,” Britta replies. “Do you, um, forgive me?”

“Yes,” he says. “I need you to be my friend, though. Not my therapist.”

“I promise,” she says, relief flooding through her body. 

“Also, I just had a really intense conversation with Jeff, and it kind of sapped all my energy, so if you could refrain from asking me anything too personal about all of... _ this, _ I’d appreciate it.” Abed gestures around vaguely, and Britta assumes he’s referring to the circumstances that landed him in the hospital. 

“Deal,” she says, and smiles. “Is there anything you  _ do _ want to talk about?”

“Troy’s supposed to call me sometime,” he offers. His face and voice are calm, but he’s still pushing the noodles around and hasn’t actually taken a bite since Britta’s been there.

She doesn’t comment on it.

“Troy!” she exclaims, because the last she heard from Troy was yesterday when he was frantically texting the group chat, and she’s glad to know he was able to connect with Abed.

“Yeah, we emailed back and forth a few times,” Abed says. “And he said he’d call me, but he didn’t know when, so…” Abed shrugs. 

Britta wants to ask if Abed has told Troy what happened, if Troy is able to be a support for Abed even from so far away. But that seems to fall under the realm of the “all of this” that Abed doesn’t want to talk about. She decides to go out on a different limb.

“Hey, can I ask you a question about Troy?”

“Is that question, ‘Are you and Troy an item?’” Abed asks, and catches her eye for a quick moment. A split second later he’s back to staring at his uneaten noodles.

“...Yes?” Britta replies, hesitantly, because she knows Abed is observant and picks up on more than people give him credit for, but she still wasn’t expecting that response. She’s kind of glad to see that the old Abed is still in there, though. This conversation is starting to feel almost normal.

“No,” Abed says.

“Okay. Can I ask you another question?”

“Are you going to ask me if I want us to be an item?”

“Will you stop doing that? Also, yes.” Britta rolls her eyes, and she’s not sure whether she’s rolling them at Abed or at herself, or maybe both, because this is ridiculous. He’s also making this a lot easier for her, though, and she wonders if it’s on purpose, if he wants to make her feel at ease.  


“Yes,” Abed says.

“Yes you’ll stop doing that, or yes you have feelings for Troy?”

“Definitely the latter.”

Britta grins and bounces a little in her chair. She wants to grab Abed’s hand, but she doesn’t.

“Abed! I’m so proud of you!” 

“For what?” Abed asks, and looks at her again. Just for a second.

“For coming out of the closet! Thank you for trusting me with your--”

“Britta, I was never in the closet,” Abed interrupts. 

“But…” 

“My sexuality has never been a relevant plot point. Well, up until now, I guess. So I never had any reason to bring it up. Don’t worry. You’re not the only one that didn’t know.”

“Does, um...does Troy know?”

“Of course Troy knows.”

“And is Troy…?” Britta knows as she’s asking that it’s a rude question, but she can’t help herself.  


“Britta.” Abed frowns at her.

“I’ll ask him myself,” she acquiesces. “Or not. Whatever.”

Abed nods, and then Jeff enters the room holding a couple of salads from the hospital’s cafeteria. He hands one to Britta.

“Lunchtime?” he asks, and leans against the wall.

As Jeff and Britta open their salads, Britta watches Abed out of the corner of her eye. He picks up the bowl of noodles, puts it down again, picks up his fork, scoops up some noodles, and then tips them back into the bowl. He has a look of intense concentration on his face, like he’s taking an exam or trying to complete a difficult task.

“So how’s it going, guys?” Jeff asks between bites of salad.

“Really good!” Britta says brightly. “We were just talking about Troy!”

“That’s right,” Jeff says. “I was going to ask you about that, Abed. Did you say he’s going to call you? When did you talk to him?”

Abed is spacing out into his bowl of noodles. He clearly hasn’t heard a word Jeff or Britta said.

“They’ve been e-mailing,” Britta answers for him.

Jeff nods, but he’s watching Abed now, and Abed is starting to breathe a little shallower and faster and Jeff realizes he’s learned to read some of Abed’s warning signs.

“Hey,” he says, somehow loud and gentle at the same time, and approaches Abed. “Want to take a break from lunch for a second?”

Abed looks at him with wide, wild eyes, and Britta isn’t sure whether he’s nodding or if that’s just him shaking, but she scoots to the side and Jeff pushes the bedside table with the noodles away, then grabs the blanket that is covering Abed and pulls it up until only Abed’s head is visible.

“It’s okay,” Jeff says. “You’re okay. Can you hear my voice? Just listen to me. Don’t worry about anything else. Okay? You’re safe. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

* * *

Abed isn’t used to being forced to eat. Sometimes he eats and sometimes he doesn’t and he’s managed to keep himself alive up until this point, but now people are forcing him to eat specific amounts at specific times and for some reason he  _ can’t do it.  _ It actually reminds him of the tongue-tied feeling he described to Jeff earlier, like there’s this thing he’s trying to do, and he knows how to do it, he’s done it tons of times, but right now he just  _ can’t. _ And then he panics because he doesn’t know how to get past that, and all of his coping mechanisms are self-destructive and forbidden, and the shame of being unable to complete such a simple task as  _ eating a bowl of buttered noodles _ feels unbearable. 

He realizes Jeff is right beside him, covering him with the weighted blanket and talking to him, trying to get Abed to focus on his voice. Abed feels distinctly removed from the situation, like he’s watching everything happen without being a part of it, and he knows this feeling, and he hates it, but he’s only ever figured out one way to snap himself out of it. He puts all his effort into paying attention to Jeff but it feels like he’s listening from the bottom of a well, and it isn’t until Jeff takes Abed’s right hand and moves it back to his side that Abed realizes underneath the blanket he was squeezing his left arm where all the stitches are, that his body was trying to snap him out of it without his mind even noticing, and he finds that pretty frightening because he actually can’t really even feel his body at all right now.

He closes his eyes and tries to calm his thoughts, to focus on Jeff’s voice as Jeff murmurs encouraging words to him. He tries to let the words wash over him the way he did with Shirley this morning. After a little while the voice changes and Britta has taken over, Abed still isn’t really listening to the words but he thinks she’s telling him about her classes. He feels his breathing start to deepen and slow, and he realizes that Britta actually has a very nice voice, and he’s glad she’s here, glad Jeff is here, glad Annie and Shirley have come to see him, and he’s been emailing with Troy, and it’s the first time in a long time that he remembers these aren’t just his friends, but his  _ family.  _

He feels guilty for putting them through this, and also incredibly grateful, and those two feelings play a tug-of-war inside his mind for a while, and he doesn’t have the capacity or the energy to root for one or the other, just lays there and pictures the back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Some time passes, and Britta stops talking and whispers to Jeff, “Do you think he’s asleep?”

“I’m awake,” Abed murmurs. “Keep talking, please, Britta. You’re helping.”

Britta pauses and clears her throat. When she begins to speak again, Abed can hear a smile in her voice.


	13. Chapter 13

Abed actually is starting to doze off when a knock comes at the door. When he opens his eyes, he sees a man with a clipboard standing in the doorway.

“Hi there, sorry to interrupt. Are you Abed?”

Abed nods.

“My name is Shawn, and I’m a social worker,” he says. “Can we talk for a little while?”

Abed nods again.

“We’ll be right outside the door, just like we agreed, okay?” says Jeff.

“Okay,” Abed replies, and Jeff and Britta step out into the hallway. Abed kind of wishes he had pretended to be asleep, but then figures he may as well get this over with. They’re not going to let him out of here without talking to someone. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” asks Shawn, who is standing next to the chair where Britta just was.

“Okay,” Abed replies. The weighted blanket has slipped down his shoulders a little, so he pulls it up, tries to fit as much of himself under it as possible.

“That’s a nice blanket,” Shawn remarks, glancing up as he shuffles through some papers. “Does it help?”

Abed nods.

“Good,” says Shawn. “Because I want you to leave here with tools. Things that will help ensure you don’t end up here again.”

“Okay,” Abed replies. He wonders how long he’ll be able to nod and “okay” his way through this conversation. 

“Here’s what I want to do,” Shawn continues. “I’m going to ask you some questions. We’ll talk about some things. And then I want to discuss what comes next for you, after you leave here.”

Abed nods.

“All right. To start, can you tell me why you’re here? What was it that put you in the hospital?”

“It seems like you should already have that information,” Abed says.

“I do,” Shawn admits. “But I’d like to hear it in your own words.”

Abed is silent. He pulls his knees up to his chest underneath the blanket and wraps his arms around them.

“Do you have a hard time talking about things sometimes, Abed?” Shawn asks, after a few moments’ pause. 

Abed shrugs. He looks up at Shawn for the briefest of seconds, then rests his head on his knees.

“Yes,” he says, eventually. His voice is doing that weak-Batman thing again.

“That’s okay,” Shawn replies. “What if you break it down into small pieces? You don’t have to tell me the whole thing at once. Just a little bit at a time.”

“I passed out. At school.” 

“Okay. Where at school did you pass out? How did you get to the hospital?”

“In the supply closet. Jeff found me.” Abed is trying to decide whether this is better or worse than this morning’s conversation with Britta. He’s leaning towards worse.

“Why were you in the supply closet?” Shawn’s voice is gentle.

Abed shrugs. “I ran away.”

“What were you running away from?” Shawn's voice is casual, as though they’re talking about the weather.

“My friends. They asked what was wrong. I couldn’t...talk.” This conversation is definitely worse than the one with Britta.

“Why couldn’t you talk?”

“Sometimes I can’t talk.” Abed hears his voice getting quieter, as though illustrating his point.

“Okay. Does that happen to you often?”

“More lately,” Abed admits.

Shawn nods and writes something else down.

“So you were with your friends, and then they asked how you were, and you felt like you couldn’t answer them, so you ran to the supply closet and you passed out?”

“Yes,” Abed says.

"Anything else you want to tell me? About what happened in the closet?"

Abed sighs.

“I can’t say it.” He hears a buzzing in his ears and wonders if it’s possible that the fluorescent light is getting louder somehow.

“Can you try? To say it?” 

“I _am_ trying,” Abed says, frustrated. “It gets stuck in my mouth. The words. I can’t…” He begins to rock back and forth. 

“Did you cut yourself?”

Abed cringes, then nods stiffly. He doesn’t know why the word affects him like this, but the thought of saying it out loud is excruciating.

“Have you ever said it aloud?"

He shakes his head. The buzzing is getting louder and his skin feels prickly, like his hospital gown is made of sandpaper.

“Where do you cut yourself, Abed?”

He shudders at that word again, then draws his right arm out from under the blanket and places it on his left upper arm.

“Is that it? The only place?”

Abed shakes his head.

“Where else?”

Abed is silent. This is _so much worse_ than the conversation with Britta.

“Can you try to say it?”

Abed speaks, but his mouth is pressed against his knees and it just comes out as muffled gibberish.

“Okay, that’s good. Would you be willing to try for me one more time? Maybe turn your head towards me?”

Abed tilts his head toward the social worker, eyes screwed shut. 

“My hips,” he mutters, “and my thighs.”

“You’re doing really well, Abed. Thank you. I’ve got a few more hard questions for you, but I promise it’ll get easier after that, okay?”

Abed starts to rock a little faster. _If he can just hold it together until the social worker leaves…_ He bunches the blanket back up over his shoulders and then slowly wraps his right hand around his left bicep underneath, taking care that what he’s doing isn’t visible. Then he squeezes as hard as he can and he can almost feel the shattered parts of himself snap back together.

He stops rocking and takes a deep breath, staring straight ahead. He nods.

“Abed, have you ever been given any kind of diagnosis? Like, by a psychiatrist, or any other kind of specialist?”

“I don’t know,” he says flatly. “My parents took me to lots of doctors when I was a kid. To find out what was wrong with me. But they never actually told me what the doctors said. They never… I don’t know. I was never part of that conversation. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t…”

“Okay,” Shawn says. “That’s all right. Would you...like to explore that further? Because we can do that. Try to get you some answers.”

“I don’t…” Abed pauses. He doesn’t really know how to say this. “I don’t know if I want to know? Like, I don’t know what that means for me. I don’t know if that’s helpful. To give it a name. I don’t know what that changes, really. About anything. Except it changes how people see me, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t know if that’s helpful or if it makes it worse.”

“You don’t have to decide now, Abed, it’s okay,” Shawn replies. “I think we should move on, though, and discuss the future.”

“Okay,” Abed says, not really wanting to discuss the future at all.

“This hospital has a behavioral health unit,” Shawn says. “It’s a locked unit, so once you’re admitted, you can’t leave until you and your doctor make that decision together. Most people stay there between a few days and a few weeks. It’s a place where you will be safe, and you will have group and individual therapy sessions, and meet with a psychiatrist--”

“You keep saying ‘you will,’” Abed interrupts. “I haven’t agreed to go there. Do I have to go there?”

The panic is creeping back and he presses his fingers into his arm again, fully aware that he’s actively harming himself _while arguing not to be locked up in a place for people who harm themselves,_ but he doesn’t really see how he’s going to get through this conversation any other way.

“You don’t have to,” Shawn says. “It’s a voluntary admission. But I really think it would be a good idea for you. I think it would be a good chance for you to work through some things and develop some new coping skills.”

Abed is silent.

“You don’t have to decide right this minute,” Shawn says. “But I want you to think about it. Discuss it with your friends, see what they think. If you have any questions, you can ask a nurse and they’ll be able to find an answer for you. And I’ll be back to talk to you tomorrow, and you can tell me what you’ve decided. I really hope you’ll consider it, though.”

Abed shrugs.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about before I go?”

Abed shakes his head.

“All right. You take care, Abed, and think about what I said. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Abed rasps as the social worker leaves his room, and Jeff comes back in.

“Britta had to leave,” he says. “She had class. But Annie is going to be here in a little while, and when she gets here I’m going to run to school for a little bit. Just for a quick meeting. That okay?”

“Yes,” says Abed.

“Did, uh...did that go okay? With the social worker?”

“I guess,” Abed replies. He’s got his knees pulled up to his chest again and his hands are all fidgety. 

“What did he...I mean…”

“I don’t want to talk about it yet,” Abed says. “But we’ll need to discuss it eventually.”

“Okay,” Jeff replies. “Well, I’ll be back this evening, probably around dinner time. Oh! That reminds me. The nurse came by while you were talking to the social worker. You, uh...you really need to eat your lunch now. I kind of promised you would. After I lied and told her that you had been about to eat when the social worker showed up.” He looks a little sheepish, but also pretty proud of himself.

Abed nods. “Do you think they would warm my noodles up again?”

“Hit that call button and we’ll ask a nurse,” says Jeff.

When Abed presses the call button, he hears music playing. He’s puzzled for a minute before he realizes it’s his phone ringing. He’s had it on vibrate for so long, he forgot what the ringtone was. Eyes wide, he picks up the phone while Jeff walks to the door to wait for the nurse. He thinks he sees Jeff grinning.

“Hello?” Abed says, trying to keep his voice steady and thinking that if this is a scam or a telemarketer, he can’t be held responsible for his actions.

“Hello? Abed??” 

Abed isn’t good at recognizing emotion in expressions or actions. 

And he’s certainly not good at recognizing emotion in voices. 

And he’s especially not good at recognizing emotion over a crappy cell phone connection. 

And Abed can recognize every bit of the joy and anxiety and excitement and fear in this voice, in those two words.

“Hey, Troy.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Hey, buddy!” Troy cries, and Abed can picture the dazzling smile on his face.

Abed is smiling, too, and his face feels stiff, like he hasn’t used those muscles in a little while.

“How are you?” Troy asks.

“Fine,” Abed replies automatically, and he’s thinking, _Is this real? Am I really talking to Troy right now?_

“F-I-N-E or F-Y-N-E?” Troy asks suspiciously.

The pause lasts long enough for Abed to remind himself that friends don’t lie.

“F-I-N-E,” Abed sighs.

“Yeah, I kind of figured. I read your email. Obviously.” Troy clears his throat. “I’m sorry this is happening. I wish I could be there,” he adds, and his voice breaks, and with it, Abed’s composure.

“I wish you were here, too,” Abed whispers.

“I... Abed, I want to talk about what’s going on with you, but I have to say something else first, because otherwise it’ll be all I can think about. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And we already kind of talked about it? In our emails? But I just want to, like…”

“Clarify what we meant when we said we loved each other?”

Troy sucks in his breath. “Yes?” he squeaks.

There’s silence for a moment, except for the crackling of the phone connection.

“I love you romantically,” Abed says, figuring he has nothing to lose, and if Troy breaks his heart now, well, this is probably the ideal time since he’s _already_ being threatened with psychiatric hospitalization.

There’s a rush of air on the end of the line, like Troy has been holding his breath.

“Oh, thank god,” Troy gasps. “Because, um. I also love you romantically. Like, a lot? And I was too dumb to realize it until, like, a few hours after we set sail? Which sucked, Abed. It really, really sucked, and it was all I could think about, and I think I drove LeVar crazy, and then I started thinking about how I could get a hold of you, and what I should say to you, and then we docked one day and I turned my phone on and _while it was on I got a text saying Jeff was calling a fucking ambulance for you…”_ By the end of this his voice is wrecked and loud and desperate.

“I’m sorry,” says Abed guardedly.

“Fuck,” says Troy. “No, don’t apologize, Abed. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I just…”

“No,” Abed says. “I don’t mean about that. Well, I am sorry about that, too. But I mean I’m sorry because I knew before you left and I didn’t tell you.”

“Knew what?”

“That I loved you. Romantically. I figured it out when the floor was lava. And I didn’t say anything because the romance genre dictates that either it would make you uncomfortable and ruin our friendship, or you would feel like you had to stay. And I didn’t want either of those things to happen.”

“Abed, this is…”

“Real life, not a movie, I know. It was just...easier to frame it that way, I guess, at the time. It was a mistake. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Especially lately.”

“Everybody makes mistakes. And I’m glad we’re talking about this now,” Troy says. “And I meant it when I said I would come to you, if you need me there.”

“Of course I need you here,” replies Abed. “But…I don’t know.”

“No?”

“Your trip is important,” Abed says. “I don’t want to destroy that. You need to understand that you’re capable of doing this on your own, you’re not just the Constable Reggie to my Inspector Spacetime. It’s your character growth arc, Troy. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“Abed…”

“Not a movie, I know, but I mean it. This is important for you.” Abed takes a breath. “And-anyway-they-want-to-lock-me-up.” He says this last part in a rush.

“ _Lock you up?_ Who? Where?”

“The social worker. And I think you once referred to it as ‘crazy people jail.’”

“Oh, the rehab thing?”

“Yup.”

“Tell me about it,” Troy says gently. “Tell me everything. About what’s going on with you. Please?”

“Um,” says Abed.

“I mean, whatever you _can_ say in words,” Troy amends. “I’m not trying to force you or anything. I just...I’ve just been really worried? And I didn’t want to, like, ask anyone else about you? But it feels like something huge is going on with you and I’m all the way out here and I love you, Abed, and I want to be in your life, I want to know if you’re okay, or if you’re _not_ okay, because it’s fine if you’re not. I just want to be here for you. That’s all.”

“You are,” Abed whispers. “And I’m not okay. And Jeff and Britta and Annie and Shirley are taking care of me, and they’re kind of the best, except actually you’re the best, and hearing your voice is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

“Same,” Troy says, softly.

“I kind of told you what happened in the email, I think,” says Abed. “When I answered your questions. Is that...enough? For now?”

“Yeah,” Troy sighs. “I just…you’re, like, safe right now, right?”

“More or less,” Abed says.

“You should know that I’m keeping the boat docked here where I have cell service until I know you’re safe. No matter how long it takes. Now, tell me about crazy people jail.”

“There’s lots of therapy. I wouldn’t be able to leave until the doctor said I could. I would have to be there maybe a few weeks. I don’t want to go.”

Troy is silent for a few seconds.

“Don’t you think it might help, though?” Troy asks, very carefully. “Like, maybe this is an opportunity.”

“I don’t know,” Abed replies.

“Maybe this is...maybe this is _your_ character growth arc, Abed. Maybe, like, we each have to have our own, separately, and then when we’re finally back together, it’s better. We’re better.”

That makes Abed pause. 

“We’re better,” he repeats, cautiously. 

“Are you going to discuss it with the rest of the group? What you’re going to do, I mean?”

“Yeah,” Abed replies. “Annie’s coming by in a little bit, I think. And she’s been to rehab before, so…”

“Definitely talk to her about it,” Troy says. “Everyone else, too. Uh, probably not Chang. Oh, and will you tell everyone I said hi?”

“Yeah,” Abed says again, and then sighs. “I really miss you.”

“I really miss you too,” Troy whines. “Hey, have you...does the group know about your, um...feelings for me?”

“Jeff and Britta do. Jeff is also aware that I thought you might reciprocate those feelings. Britta tried to get me to out you, and I wouldn’t.”

“It’s fine with me if you tell them,” Troy says. “About us. I mean...if there is something to tell. Is there something to tell? Are we…”

“Yes,” Abed says quickly, to stop Troy rambling. “We are. But I don’t know what to call it.”

“ _Troy and Abed are together,_ ” Troy sings under his breath, and Abed’s heart soars. “So does that mean you’ll wait for me?”

“I was always going to wait for you, Troy.”

“Did I mention I miss you?” Troy asks, and his voice is all breathy and it sends a shiver down Abed’s spine.

“I miss you too,” Abed sighs. 

“My phone is gonna die,” Troy says. “It’s beeping at me. Can I call you tomorrow? And maybe you can tell me what you’ve decided about...your character arc?”

“Tomorrow,” Abed repeats. “Yes. Please.”

“I love you, Abed.”

“I love you too, Troy.”

* * *

Jeff has been periodically glancing through the doorway, watching Abed’s face change as he talks. He looks more like himself than he has since Troy left. Jeff is curious what they’re talking about, how honest Abed is being, if they’re discussing their feelings for each other, but he doesn’t eavesdrop. He wonders when he became so... _ethical._ And when he started getting so invested in his friends’ relationships.

The nurse stops by with Abed’s lunch, straight out of the microwave, and Jeff assures her that Abed will eat it this time. She looks skeptical, but leaves without further comment, and Jeff spends a few minutes debating whether it would be rude to take it in to Abed while he’s on the phone, and hoping the nurse doesn’t walk by again.

Finally, he glances up and sees Abed hang up the phone. He looks a little flustered, so Jeff gives him some time to regroup, and then walks into the room and ceremoniously sets the bowl of warm noodles on the table. He watches Abed’s face but he doesn’t react, and Jeff hopes that’s a good sign, because noodles can only be microwaved so many times.

“Bon appetit,” he says. “How’s Troy?”

“He says hi,” Abed replies, and to Jeff’s delight, he picks up the fork and takes a bite.


	15. Chapter 15

Jeff plays on his phone while Abed slowly finishes his lunch, and just as Abed sets the empty bowl down on the table, Jeff’s phone chimes with a text message.

“Annie’s on her way,” Jeff says.

“Okay,” Abed replies. “But before Annie gets here, can I say something?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t yell at Hickey on my behalf.”

“Abed…”

“Because I think I was pretty out of it yesterday when I told you what happened and I don’t really remember what I said, but I don’t want you to talk to him thinking I’m innocent in this, because it was my fault, too. I started it.”

“Okay, but…”

“I know he shouldn’t have handcuffed me. I guess you can be mad at him for that…”

“Damn right I can,” Jeff mutters under his breath.

“...but not for what he said to me, because some of what he said was true. And some wasn’t, but I yelled at him, too, and I was mean on purpose. And I did destroy his drawings, and I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t make it okay.”

“Abed, you were…” 

“I was sad about Troy. That’s not an excuse for my behavior.”

“No, Abed, you were more than sad about Troy. _Sad about Troy_ doesn’t land you in the hospital with stitches and social workers, okay?”

“Getting myself put in the hospital doesn’t excuse what I did, either. Hickey’s not wrong. I know you guys walk on eggshells around me, indulge my quirks and everything. And now that Troy isn’t here to balance me out, it’s too much. It could be a horror movie, _Abed Unleashed_. None of you should have to deal with that.”

Abed’s voice sounds completely calm, but he has his blanket bunched up in his hands and his eyes are squeezed shut, and Jeff is a little alarmed.

“Look, Abed…”

“My character needs to grow,” Abed whispers, and tears spill down his cheeks.

The door opens and Annie walks in.

* * *

“Oh my god, am I interrupting?” she squeaks when she sees Abed, and takes a couple steps back.

“No. Come in,” says Abed wiping his eyes on his blanket. “You should be part of this conversation.”

“What conversation?” she asks carefully. Jeff stands up from his chair and gestures for Annie to sit.

“The one about how maybe it’s time for my character to have a growth arc,” Abed says. “Troy and I were just talking about it. Oh, he says to say hi, Annie.”

“Aw, yay!” she exclaims, and then folds her hands in her lap. “Okay. Now, elaborate on this growth arc, please.”

Abed looks up at the ceiling.

“I told Troy he needs to take his trip because it’s essential for his character growth arc,” Abed explains. “And he said maybe going to rehab is essential for mine.”

“Rehab?” Annie asks.

“Crazy people jail,” Abed says. 

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the inpatient psych unit that they want you to go to after this,” clarifies Jeff.

Abed glances at him for a second.

“You signed a release so I could talk to the doctor,” Jeff shrugs. “They’re keeping me updated.”

Abed nods.

“Could you, um,” Annie says, “elaborate on that for those of us who don’t have fancy information releases and are feeling a little out of the loop?”

Jeff looks at Abed, then at Annie.

“The social worker is recommending that Abed go to an inpatient program after this, for a few weeks. For...therapy and stuff.”

Annie barely has to think about how to approach this. She smiles.

“Abed,” she says. “Listen to what I’m about to say to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Abed says to the ceiling.

“Do the program. Don’t look at it as rehab or crazy people jail. Look at it as an opportunity. For your, um, character arc, like Troy said. Going to rehab was one of the best things I ever did. It turned Annie Adderall into...me. And trust me, you guys would have _hated_ Annie Adderall. I certainly did.” Annie shakes her head, trying to dislodge the memory of her senior year of high school.

“I agree,” Jeff says. “I’ve learned a lot of stuff about you since yesterday morning, stuff that never came up in the five years we’ve been friends. You can’t keep that stuff bottled up forever, Abed. You have to talk to someone about it. Or you’re going to end up in this situation again. You deserve better than that.”

“You deserve to be healthy and happy,” Annie adds. 

Abed has a pained look on his face, one that’s very familiar to Annie, one that says this talk of his health and happiness is making him profoundly uncomfortable. Like maybe he actually _doesn’t_ believe he deserves these things.

He changes the subject before Annie can pry.

“Troy and I are together.”

“WHAT?!” Annie squawks, eyes wide, and all other thoughts fly out of her head. “Oh my gosh! Abed, that’s wonderful news! How long have you…I mean, when did…” Annie’s brain is exploding a little, in the very best way.

“We made it official, so to speak, on the phone a little while ago,” Abed replies. “We’ve been dancing around it for a few days via email. It’s a common trope.”

“I’m happy for you guys,” Jeff says, and Annie is still getting used to this new sincere version of Jeff, wonders how long it will last.

“You can tell the others if you want,” Abed says. “Troy gave permission and I know you all like to be in the loop.”

Annie giddily grabs her cell phone, but Jeff stops her.

“Hold on,” he says. “I’d like to go back to the conversation Abed and I were having earlier, and maybe you can give some input, Annie.

Annie nods, eyes wide.

"Abed doesn’t want me to confront Hickey--”

“That’s not what I said,” interrupts Abed, sounding suddenly exasperated. “You can yell at him about the handcuffing part. That's fine. It’s the rest of it that I’d rather you leave alone.”

“What do you mean by ‘the rest of it’?” Annie asks sternly. 

* * *

“I made a mistake and destroyed some of Hickey’s drawings,” Abed says, and telling this story to Jeff yesterday was bad enough. Repeating it to Annie is worse, so he tries to just kind of get it all out at once.

“And he yelled at me about some things that are true, like how I destroyed his drawings, and also some things that aren’t true, like how I’ve never been punished for anything.” 

Abed pictures Hickey’s papers disintegrating in the foam, and then his mind starts lighting up with images of his childhood, his dad yelling at him, his classmates shoving him, and none of them would just _tell him what he did wrong_. At least this time he knows why he's being punished.

“And I yelled at him about some things that are true and some that aren’t,” Abed continues.

Now he sees a loop of him and Hickey screaming at each other, and Abed doesn’t know if he’s ever yelled at someone like that when he wasn’t playing a character, and he would feel bad except Hickey was yelling just as loudly, and it's almost like there was a balance of some sort.

“And he handcuffed me to the file cabinet for a while, to make me miss my movie. I guess maybe I didn’t deserve that part. The handcuffing, I mean. I probably did deserve to miss my movie. And at the end we kind of made up and he said he’d help me with my script.”

Abed shrugs.

“So I don’t really want to talk about this anymore, and, Jeff, you can be mad at him about the handcuffing, but not the rest. I’m not trying to be a martyr, I’m just recognizing the fact that I was wrong, too.”

Abed crosses his arms and looks at Jeff, waiting to see what he’ll say. Annie responds, instead.

“I think that’s fair,” she says to Jeff. “I mean, we weren’t in the room when this happened. And Abed’s an adult. I know you’re just trying to protect him, but I think you can do that best by listening to his wishes right now.”

Jeff nods begrudgingly, but doesn’t say anything. Annie’s face hardens.

“Give him hell about the handcuffs, though,” she growls. “Because that is completely unacceptable and I’ve been wanting to say something since you told me yesterday, and I’ve contained myself this long, but…” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“Deal,” says Jeff. “That okay with you, Abed?”

Abed nods and gazes at the scabs on his wrist. He obviously doesn’t blame Hickey for those. The handcuff wounds would have been healed by now if he hadn’t messed with them, and if they’d never happened, Abed is certain he would have still ended up in this situation one way or another. 

Then they are interrupted by a woman coming through the door, her arms piled with binders and a smile on her face.

“Abed?” she asks, and Abed nods. “My name is Dee, I’m a nutritionist. Can I talk to you for a little while?”

Abed nods again.

“That’s my cue,” Jeff says. “I’m going to campus now. I’ll be back this evening.” He strolls out the door.

“Can Annie stay in the room?” Abed asks the nutritionist.

“Sure, as long as you’re comfortable with that,” she replies.

“Annie?” Abed says. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” Annie replies. “I’ll be in the corner, texting Britta and Shirley about...some stuff.” She winks at Abed and steps out of the way, and then the nutritionist places a binder on the bed in front of him.

Abed sighs and opens it.


	16. Chapter 16

The whole way to Greendale, Jeff thinks about what he’s going to say to Hickey. When he walks into the office, though, it all flies out of his head, because Shirley is there.

“His name is Jim,” Hickey is saying, pointing to a sheet of paper. “Jim the Duck.”

“How adorable,” Shirley murmurs, and then glances up at Jeff. 

She makes a quick face that he can’t quite read, like she’s trying to convey something, but he doesn’t know what. Then she’s back to smiling.

“Hello, Jeffrey!” she trills. “How is Abed?”

“He’s okay,” Jeff replies. “Annie’s with him. He talked to Troy today. Abed and Troy are together,” he adds, wondering how Shirley will react.

“Good for them,” she says, very clearly and deliberately, no sign of shock or disapproval, and Jeff relaxes. “I’ll go see him tomorrow,” she says. “I’ve got to head home now.”

“See you,” says Hickey.

“Goodbye,” Shirley replies sweetly. Then she grabs Jeff’s arm and pulls him right outside the doorway. “I tried to put him in a good mood by looking at his drawings,” she whispers sharply. “Now you take him to church.”

Jeff raises an eyebrow, but Shirley gestures him back into the room and then takes off down the hallway. He wonders how Shirley even knew he was coming, but realizes Annie must have texted her. Which also explains Shirley’s lack of surprise at the news of Troy and Abed.

He steps back into the office and Hickey raises an eyebrow at him.

“Where, uh...where is Abed, anyway?” Hickey asks, trying and failing to sound casual. “I haven’t seen him for a few days and…” He shrugs. “And last time he was here he was acting crazy, so, you know. Just curious.”

“I thought the whole school knew by now that he left by ambulance yesterday,” Jeff replies shortly.

“Okay, well, I was trying to be discreet,” Hickey grumbles, and Jeff rolls his eyes.

“He’s still in the hospital,” Jeff says. “He...might be there for a while.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?”

“I’m not really sure it’s my place to discuss that with you,” Jeff snaps. 

“Did he finally go postal or something?” Hickey asks, and Jeff takes a deep breath because he really doesn’t want this to turn into a fight.

“Look, man--”

“I’m sorry,” Hickey interrupts. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I, uh…sometimes when I’m uncomfortable I lose my filter.”

“What filter would that be?”

Hickey shrugs.

“Look, I know Abed and I had a fight the other day, but I do actually want to know if he’s okay.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jeff replies.

“I don’t know what he told you about it, but…”

“I’m not here to yell at you for that,” Jeff sighs. “Abed made it pretty clear that he believes both of you were at least somewhat at fault, and I’m just going to trust him.”

“Good.”

“But also, you can’t fucking handcuff students to furniture, man. You can’t…you know that’s considered abuse, right?”

“I was just trying to teach him a lesson. He needs to understand that actions have consequences.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s aware of that. I’m pretty sure he’s been facing consequences for things he did and didn’t do for his whole life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s been bullied forever, man. His family life is terrible. He doesn’t understand the right way to interact with people, and he’s been punished for that over and over again.”

“Your whole group indulges his fantasies. You cater to every whim.”

“We care about him. We want to help him. And there’s a point when you learn that if your friend believes the floor is made of actual lava, you can’t fix him by convincing him that the lava isn’t real. Because to him it _is_ real. So you have to come up with a solution that meets him where he is, and if that involves pretending to make a clone of him to get him out of it, that’s what you do.”

Hickey is silent.

“He’s never had friends before,” Jeff continues. “His family isn’t there for him. He’s been alone forever. And he’s become like a different person since coming to Greendale and meeting us. We’ve been helping him. He’s been helping us, too. It probably looks fucking weird from the outside, because it _is_ fucking weird a lot of the time. But that’s friendship. That’s Abed. That's _us._ ”

“I was just trying to show him what no one else would.”

“He spent half his formative years shoved into a locker. You think that’s much different than being handcuffed to a file cabinet?”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Hickey bursts out. “I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Fine,” Hickey says. “You’re right. I didn’t ask. And I shouldn’t have used the handcuffs, and I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Jeff replies. “You might want to tell him that someday.”

“He really admitted he was wrong when we were fighting?”

“Yeah,” Jeff says. “It turns out he actually is an adult, even if that’s easy to forget sometimes.”

Hickey lets out a breath and it sounds almost like a laugh.

“Look, will you tell him I said I’m sorry about the handcuffing thing?” Hickey mutters.

“I will,” Jeff replies. “But you should, too.” He turns around and walks out the door. 

Before he goes to his car, he stops by the dean’s office.

“Jeffrey!” the dean cries, delighted. “I’ve been looking into that thing that you mentioned to me this morning…”

“Forget it,” Jeff says.

“But…”

“Forget it,” Jeff repeats. “I told you, it was hypothetical.”

“Okay,” the dean replies skeptically. “So, how’s Abed doing?”

“He’s okay,” Jeff says, and thinks maybe he should just put that on a sign around his neck. “Uh, he might not be back at school for a few weeks. Do you think he’ll be able to work something out…”

“Of course, of course,” the dean reassures him. “We’ll figure it out, don’t even worry about it. Just tell him I’m thinking of him.”

“Will do,” says Jeff. “See you later.” He exits the office.

When he gets to his car, he realizes it’s just about dinner time. He texts Annie that he’s going to grab a bite, and he’ll be at the hospital afterwards. She sends back a thumbs up emoji.

* * *

By the time the nutritionist leaves, Abed feels like his brain is fried. He’s got a binder full of information and charts and graphs and example meal plans, and he’s gotten a crash course in food groups and nutrients and energy, and it’s not that it doesn’t make sense, because it does. It’s science. In fact, some of it is kind of interesting, and he’s learned kind of a lot.

That doesn’t help him put any of it into practice, though. 

He doesn’t know how to explain that balanced meals sound great until all the textures of the foods come together, and then he wants to claw his skin off. He doesn’t know how to describe the panic in his chest when faced with something he’s never eaten before. And he really, really doesn’t know how to explain why he just can’t bring himself to eat at all sometimes, and it doesn’t matter what the food is or how nutritious, because the problem is obviously, _obviously_ all in his head.

He figures that’s the kind of thing they try to fix in crazy people jail, and cringes because he refuses to say he’s made up his mind that he needs to go there, and maybe if he just doesn’t think about it, he won’t ever have to admit the very secret fact that _he is pretty sure he does need to go there._

When the nurse brings in his buttered noodles, she also brings a bowl of peas, which he promised the nutritionist he would try. It’s not that he doesn’t like peas. He’s not sure why this simple meal of two foods is such an obstacle, when a few weeks ago he could eat a hamburger for lunch, no problem. But now he’s sitting here, staring at the bowls, and he doesn’t know how long it’s been but he can feel Annie watching him, looking away as soon as he raises his eyes to her. 

She stands up and walks over to the Tupperware that holds Shirley’s brownies, grabs one, and sits down. She takes a bite, and her eyes flicker up to Abed again, and he realizes she’s doing this for him, eating a brownie so he’s not eating alone, and he feels simultaneously warm with love for his friend and cold with shame because he’s still just sitting there with the empty fork in his hand, like he can’t will himself to move.

Annie doesn’t say anything, just continues to eat the brownie, and when her phone chimes, she holds it up to him so he can see that it’s Jeff, and he’ll be on his way back after dinner. Abed wonders how his meeting went, if things are better or worse with Hickey, if he’ll be able to finish his dinner before Jeff gets here. If he’ll be able to _start_ his dinner before Jeff gets here.

Abed glances at Annie, who is looking at the phone again, and then he very gently sets the fork down, pulls his blanket up to his neck, and slides his right hand over to grasp the upper part of his left arm. He squeezes, digging his fingers in, staring straight ahead, and lets the noise in his head go quiet.

Annie is still focused on her phone, so Abed keeps squeezing. His wonderful friend and roommate is here with him so he won’t be alone at the hospital. His other wonderful friend has just stood up for him to someone who hurt him. The man he is in love with loves him back. 

_And somehow all Abed can think about is how much he hates himself, and the answer is very, very much, and he knows he doesn’t deserve these people in his life._

And then Annie looks up again and smiles, because she still hasn’t noticed what he’s doing, so he lets go and reaches for the fork again and tries as hard as he can to smile back.


	17. Chapter 17

When Jeff arrives back at the hospital, he finds Annie and Abed watching _Inspector Spacetime_ on Abed’s laptop, Annie curled up next to Abed so they can both see. Annie’s eyes are on the show, and Abed’s face is turned in that direction -- in fact, he’s mouthing the words along with the characters -- but Jeff notices his eyes are actually on the half-empty bowl of noodles in his lap, as if he thinks staring at them will make them go away. On the table next to the bed is an untouched bowl of peas.

“Hey, guys,” Jeff says, and clearly both Abed and Annie were too immersed in their respective activities to notice him, because they both jump a mile when he speaks. 

“Jeff!” exclaims Annie, hand over her heart. “How long have you been here?”

“I just walked in,” he assures her. “How’s it going, Abed?”

“Okay,” Abed says distantly, and pushes his noodles around with his fork. 

“I, uh, talked to Hickey,” Jeff says, and Abed glances up briefly, eyes still very far away.

“How’d it go?” asks Annie. “Was everything...?”

“He said to tell you he’s sorry,” Jeff says to Abed. “About the handcuffing thing. I told him to tell you himself, so…” He shrugs.

“Okay.” Abed nods. 

“It was good, though,” Jeff continues. “I think. I don’t know.”

Annie hums vaguely, but she’s watching Abed, who is now staring at a forkful of noodles, and Jeff thinks that if she has been sitting next to him long enough to watch him do this to half the bowl already, she has the patience of a saint, because this is insane.

Jeff is desperate for something else to focus on by the time Abed actually puts the noodles in his mouth and starts slowly chewing. 

“What are you watching?” Jeff finally asks.

_"Inspector Spacetime!”_ Annie answers quickly. “Want to watch? We can switch places.” She moves to get up from the bed, to make space for Jeff, and he figures the least he can do is give her a break from this for a minute. He sits down next to Abed who is _still chewing._

“I have to step out and make a phone call,” Annie says. “I’ll just be in the hallway, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeff and Abed say at the same time. Annie and Jeff both grin, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile from Abed, too. Annie leaves the room.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Abed?” Jeff asks when Annie is gone. He hits the spacebar to pause _Inspector Spacetime._ “You haven’t said anything besides ‘okay’ since I got here.”

Abed just looks at him for a minute, an expression on his face that Jeff can’t read.

“This is the worst,” Abed finally says, with a great deal of effort.

Jeff raises an eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“All of it,” Abed says flatly. “You and Annie spending an hour watching me try to eat half a meal. Everyone rearranging their schedules to be here. Trying to decide what to do after this.” He shrugs. “I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“Abed…” Jeff begins, and has no idea how to continue. “Look, I know how you’re feeling--”

“Do you?” Abed interrupts. 

“What?”

“Do you actually know how I’m feeling? Because I hate when people say that and they don’t, which is pretty much all the time, because no two people ever have the same experience.”

The words themselves are sharp, but Abed doesn’t actually sound mad, just resigned, or maybe tired, and Jeff cringes.

“Okay,” he replies. “That’s fair. I don’t know how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t mind if you tell me you can _relate_ to how I’m feeling,” Abed offers. “But only if it’s true.”

Jeff nods.

“I do. I mean, I can relate to some of what you’re feeling. Not all of it, obviously. But this is what I can tell you. Me and Annie, Shirley, Britta... _Troy…_ all of us care about you. A lot. We’re here because we want to be. Because you’re important to us. I don’t care how long it takes you to eat a bowl of noodles. I don’t care if I have to spend the entire day here. I want to do those things, because you’re my friend, and you’re important and I want you to feel better.” He pauses. “And also, _because_ I can relate to _some_ of what you’re feeling, I’m fairly certain you don’t believe a word of what I’m saying. Which is fine, as long as you listen anyway, because I won’t stop saying it. None of us will.”

“Classic Winger speech.” Jeff and Abed look up to see Annie standing in the doorway. “Sorry,” she adds. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear. Um, but Jeff is right, Abed. We care about you so much!” She sits down in the chair.

“Thank you,” says Abed, and then he sighs and chokes down another bite of noodles.

* * *

Annie looks at Jeff and Abed, squished together on the small hospital bed, and her heart lifts a little bit. She’s happy to see how close they’ve gotten. Glad to see Abed open up to Jeff, but also glad to see Jeff open up to Abed. It just seems so healthy, despite the circumstances. Or maybe because of them.

“Abed,” Jeff says after a long while. “When you said you were trying to decide what to do after this, did you mean that you haven’t made a decision yet on whether to do the inpatient treatment?”

“Yeah,” says Abed, who has finally finished his noodles and is now poking at the peas with his fork. 

“Why wouldn’t you go?” 

“Because I’m scared,” Abed replies matter-of-factly. “Because I don’t want to deal with any of this.”

“Even though it’ll make things better?” Jeff asks. 

“What if it doesn’t?”

“It has to!” Jeff blurts out, and Abed tilts his head, his face sad and questioning at the same time.

“But what if it doesn’t?” he says again. 

“I understand,” Annie interjects. “I mean, that’s how I felt when I was deciding whether to go to rehab.”

Both Jeff and Abed look at her, Jeff’s expression one of relief and Abed’s one of curiosity.

“Yeah,” Annie continues, feeling useful for the first time in all of this. “I was afraid I would go to rehab and come out the same broken person. Like, _well, I guess this is just who I am now_.”

“But you didn’t,” Abed says softly.

“I didn’t,” Annie agrees. “And I didn’t come out how I am now, either. I was...kind of an in-between person for awhile. But it was still better than where I was before.”

“That’s good,” Jeff says. “That’s really good. Right?” He looks at Abed.

Abed nods.

“I was also afraid it would be painful and scary and lonely and awful,” Annie says.

“And was it?” asks Jeff.

“Yeah,” Annie says, somehow sounding both blunt and thoughtful at the same time.

Jeff glares at her.

“Not the whole time,” she adds quickly, seeing the alarm in Abed’s eyes. “But I don’t want to give you unrealistic expectations, you know? It’s not summer camp or anything, but it’s really not all bad. I don’t know what yours will be like, but I made friends, and I learned about myself, and I learned a lot of coping skills that I still use. So...you kind of have to take the bad with the good, I guess. There’s a lot of both. But it’s worth it. It’s one of the best things I ever did.”

Annie stops rambling and tries to give Abed a comforting look, but he’s staring down at his hands. He doesn’t say anything.

* * *

“Thank you,” Abed finally says to Annie, because he feels like maybe he’s been quiet for too long. 

“You’re welcome,” Annie replies warmly. “If you want to talk about it more tonight or tomorrow, let me know.”

“Okay.”

“What’s the plan for tonight, Abed?” Jeff asks. “Do you want one of us to stay with you?”

“No,” Abed says, shaking his head. “They’re going to give me something to make me sleep again. But...thank you.”

He picks up a book that Annie left next to the bed. It’s a textbook for one of his classes, and he doesn’t even pay attention to which one. What he wants right now is to think about Troy, but he doesn’t want to displace Jeff and Annie. It’s too close to night time to pretend to sleep, and when he has a TV show on he can’t help but watch, even if it’s something he’s seen a hundred times. So he opens the book and pretends to read, and Annie and Jeff take the hint and both stand up.

“We’re just going to go by the door so we don’t distract you, okay?” Annie says, and Abed nods, grateful that now he won’t have to remember to turn pages. He bends his knees and rests the book on them.

In his mind, Abed pushes everything out of the way and attempts to recreate their phone call from this afternoon, to hear the warm comfort of Troy’s voice. He tries to picture Troy at sea, and finds that he can’t, because Abed took pottery when Troy was in the sailing class at Greendale. 

He imagines a clip show of segments from _Troy and Abed in the Morning,_ and he thinks about sleeping in the blanket fort, spending time in the Dreamatorium, sitting in their chairs in front of the TV in the living room. 

He feels Troy’s arms around him in a hug, feels Troy rubbing his back, feels Troy’s fingers interlaced in his as they hold hands. He hears the two of them singing in Spanish, singing about Christmas, singing to a missing rat named Fievel. 

He feels the heat of battle, paintballs flying, lava flowing, he and Troy as a team.

Abed closes his textbook. He’s shaking a little and his eyes are tearing up. He burrows under his blanket. Annie catches his eye and starts to speak, but the door opens right next to her and a nurse comes in. 

“What time do you want me to bring your sleep meds?” she asks.

“You can just bring them now,” Abed says hoarsely, even though it’s still pretty early, and he closes his eyes to avoid seeing the confused look on Annie’s face. 


	18. Chapter 18

When Abed wakes up the next morning, he’s relieved to see Shirley reading a book in the chair next to him. When he stirs, she smiles and begins to read aloud, and they stay like that for a long time, and it’s peaceful.

Eventually, Abed pulls himself up into a sitting position and looks at Shirley. She stops reading.

“Good morning, Abed!” she says. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” he replies, which seems like a safe answer even though he’s not really awake enough to know how he is yet. 

“I’m glad,” she says. “Do you think you’ll be going home soon?”

Abed hasn’t actually talked to Shirley about any of this. He’s not sure if anyone has. And maybe it’s because she’s always mothering him and he doesn’t really remember what it’s like to have a mother, or maybe it’s because everything feels like it’s going to pieces anyway and he doesn’t have much to lose, but when he opens his mouth, the truth slips out.

“They want me to go somewhere else after this. For a few weeks. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going. Annie and Jeff and Troy want me to go, but...I haven’t decided.”

“What kind of place, honey?” Shirley’s voice is warm and kind. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable,” she adds, when Abed hesitates.

“The mental ward. Rehab. Crazy people jail,” he rambles.

Shirley nods.

“Do you think it might help?” she asks earnestly.

“Maybe,” Abed says. “Probably. Everyone else thinks so. But…”

He’s at a loss for words, so he just trails off and looks up at her helplessly.

“Sweetie,” she says. “I don’t know what exactly you’re facing, and you don’t have to tell me. But I went through a period years ago where I was drinking a lot. It was a bad, bad time. I made a lot of bad choices.”

“Is that when they took those pictures of you at the bar we went to on Troy’s birthday?”

“Yes. I’m not proud of that. And I had my friends, and I had my family, but it was only by the grace of God and a lot of AA meetings that I got out of that mess. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I need Jesus in my life?”

“Well, of course you do, but that’s not the point I’m making,” Shirley shoots back. “I needed help _outside_ my friends and family to get better. And it sounds like that’s what’s being offered to you. Right?”

“Yes,” Abed admits. 

“Those are my feelings. I’m not going to tell you what you should do. That’s for you to decide. But there is one more thing I want to add.” 

Abed raises an eyebrow.

“I miss Happy Abed,” she says softly. “And it sure would be nice to have him back.”

Abed nods, because he also would like to have Happy Abed back. 

“Would you like me to keep reading?” she asks.

“Yes please,” Abed replies. 

Before she does, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a bag of blueberry muffins. She hands one to Abed and then picks up the book and starts reading. She doesn’t look at him.

He stares at it for a while, then takes a bite. 

* * *

Britta shows up just as Shirley is getting ready to leave, as if it’s a shift change. She swoops in and plants herself in the chair next to Abed, eyes wide.

“Is it true? Are you and Troy really together now?” She’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“Yes,” Abed replies. “It’s not weird for you, is it?”

“No way. Troy and I were...well, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it some day. We weren’t an ideal couple. No hard feelings.”

“He already told me all about it. I was being polite.”

Britta snorts. _Of course he did,_ she thinks. _They were already a couple by then, even if they didn’t realize it yet._

“You seem like you’re feeling a little better,” she says cautiously. “At least, you sound a little more like your old self.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you excited to go home tomorrow?”

Abed’s expression darkens and Britta wonders what she’s missing. 

“I have to decide if I want to go to another place after this,” Abed says. “A mental health place. For a few weeks.”

“How does that make you feel?” Britta asks, and immediately blushes.

“That depends on whether Friend Britta or Therapist Britta is asking,” Abed says, eyes narrowed.

“Friend Britta. Always Friend Britta, from now on. I promise.” She wishes she’d never tried to therapize Abed, wishes she could take it all back.

“Thank you,” he says. “And it makes me feel scared. And unsure of whether or not I should go.”

Britta gives him a sympathetic smile.

“It can’t be an easy choice,” she says. “Have you talked to anyone else about it?”

“The general consensus is that I should go. That it’s what I need. That it’ll make things better. I just…” He pauses. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect. I’ve seen surprisingly few mental hospital movies. It’s new territory, and I don’t like that.”

“That's reasonable. But it shouldn't be the thing that stops you from going. You know?"

“Yeah.” Abed nods. “Troy said to frame it like a character growth arc. Similar to what he’s doing on the boat.”

“Troy’s a smart cookie,” Britta says. “And that’s a fantastic way to look at it.”

“I think part of me already knows I’m going to go,” Abed admits. “I mean, I can’t continue on like _this._ ”

“No, you can’t,” Britta agrees. “And I don’t want to get any more ‘meet me at the hospital’ texts from Jeff.”

“Sorry,” Abed says.

“Don’t be. It happens. We all have our stuff,” Britta says. “And anyway, we just love you.”

Abed smiles.

* * *

Later, as Britta gets ready to leave, Jeff and Dr. Price come into the room together.

“Can I talk to you for a little while, Abed?” Dr. Price asks. “Jeff can stay if you want.”

“Okay,” Abed says, replying to both questions at once. 

Britta says goodbye, and Jeff comes and sits in the chair by the bed, and Dr. Price stands to the side where she can see both of them.

“Just a few things to talk about,” she says. “First of all, I noticed you’ve been eating your meals, which is great. I know it’s not easy. But you’ve done a really good job.”

Abed looks away, embarrassed, because he definitely wouldn’t call what he’s been doing a “really good job”. He’s eaten all his food, but every meal takes upwards of an hour and it’s full of stress and frustration and anxiety. He can’t imagine how annoying it must be for his friends to witness.

“Did you meet with the nutritionist?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Abed says, and points to the binder on the table next to him. 

“Did you learn anything?”

“I learned lots of things. But none of them are very helpful since my aversion to food is psychological. The problem isn’t that I don’t know that green beans are healthy. The problem is that the thought of chewing green beans makes me want to die.”

Jeff opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but Dr. Price beats him to it.

“Fair point,” she says, which surprises both Abed and Jeff. “Anyway, that brings us to my last thing. Have you given some thought to whether you’re willing to be admitted to the psychiatric unit?”

Abed can feel Jeff’s and Dr. Price’s eyes fixed on him, like spotlights. He stays quiet, bouncing the thought around in his mind, trying to decide what to say. He realizes he can sit here as long as he wants, and run all the simulations as best he can, but he’s known his answer from the start.

“I’ll do it,” he mumbles.

Jeff gives him a quick pat on the back, a huge smile on his face.

“Excellent!” Dr. Price says. “I really think this is a great option for you, Abed. And the program at this hospital is very good. I promise. Your friends can visit you every day. Shawn will come to your room this evening and get you moved over there, okay? That way you can start fresh in the morning.”

Abed has been trying to block out the specifics, to avoid thinking about what actually happens next, before everything becomes too real and swallows him whole. Now it _is_ real, and it hits him like an avalanche. He tries to think of anything else, but he can feel his breath speeding up. His heart is pounding in his ears. He yanks the blanket up over his shoulders and buries his head in his knees.

A moment later he feels a firm pressure on his back. Not rubbing, the way Troy does, just pressing. He knows without looking that it’s Jeff. He listens for Jeff’s voice and hears him speaking, calmly and slowly. It takes Abed a minute to understand what he’s saying.

“Breathe with me, you’re okay. It’s okay. Just breathe with me, in and out. You’ve got this, buddy. You’re okay. You’re safe, Abed. Just breathe…”

Abed throws every bit of his energy into matching Jeff’s breaths, and eventually he does. They breathe together. Abed closes his eyes and tries to lose himself in it, to forget about everything else for a minute. He hears some murmuring between Jeff and Dr. Price, but he can’t make out what they’re saying. Then he hears the door close, and it’s just him and Jeff, and Abed relaxes.


	19. Chapter 19

During the hour and a half it takes for Abed to eat lunch, which is buttered noodles and peas again, because the last thing Abed wants is variety, Jeff leaves to teach and Annie arrives. Like yesterday, Abed and Annie watch _Inspector Spacetime,_ and he tries to focus on the show instead of his meal, tries to see if he can trick himself into eating when he’s not paying attention. It doesn’t really work, but eventually he manages to finish everything.

While Annie chooses the next episode from Abed’s extensive collection of regular episodes, extended episodes, special episodes, and episodes with commentaries, Abed wonders if he should apologize for the literal hours she’s now spent over the last couple of days watching him try to eat. He’s just worked himself into a pretty good shame-spiral when his cell phone rings.

Annie passes it to him and they both glimpse the name on the screen and it’s Troy.

All of Abed’s thoughts fly out of his head and he looks at Annie, who has broken into a huge grin. She jumps up from the bed, grabs her own cell phone out of her purse, and darts to the door.

“Tell him I said hi!” she squeals, and steps into the hallway.

“Hello?” Abed feels fluttery and tingly all over. 

“Hey, Abed!” Troy’s voice is all juice and honey, sweetness and light.

“Hey, Troy.” Abed doesn’t want to think about what his own voice sounds like, just tries to infuse it with as much love as possible. Which shouldn’t be too hard, because it's Troy.

“How’s it going, buddy?”

Abed considers for a few seconds.

“The same as yesterday, I think,” he replies. “Not really better. But maybe not worse.”

“That’s good.” Troy pauses. “I mean... _is_ that good?”

“More or less, probably.”

“Um, is that an answer? Or is that you avoiding the question in a fancy way?”

“The second one,” Abed says matter-of-factly. “Actually, I’m completely freaking out.”

“Freaking out because you decided to go to crazy people jail?” Troy asks, his voice gentle and fiercely hopeful, and they’ve been talking less than a minute, and already Abed feels like he’s going to spill over, like he’s too small a vessel for Troy’s affection.

 _Maybe that’s part of my character growth arc,_ he thinks. _Growing into a bigger vessel. Letting Troy love me more._

“I love you,” he blurts out, forgetting they’re already in the middle of a conversation. “I mean, um, yes. Crazy people jail.”

Troy is trying to keep his laughter silent, but Abed can hear him, and when Abed starts to laugh out loud, Troy joins him. It’s the best feeling in the world, laughing with Troy, and nothing else matters in this moment, and they laugh until both of them are out of breath.

“I love you too,” Troy finally says. “Now quit changing the damn subject and tell me what’s up.” He’s trying to sound stern, Abed thinks, but he’s still laughing, and it doesn’t work.

“I’m going tonight,” Abed says. “I kind of expected to have a little more time. But this morning I told the doctor I would go, and she told me I was going tonight, and then she probably laid out some of the specifics, but I was too busy panicking to listen, so…I’ll have to ask Jeff what she said, I guess. I sort of blocked the whole thing out of my mind and then Annie and I watched _Inspector Spacetime_ and then you called.”

“Abed,” Troy says, and the laughter in his voice has been replaced by something Abed can’t quite place. “Listen to me. Are you listening?”

“I’m listening,” Abed says.

 _“I am so proud of you.”_ Troy says each word slowly and deliberately, like he’s explaining something very important and wants to make sure Abed understands.

_Oh._

Abed realizes that’s exactly what he's doing. And then he recognizes the tone in Troy’s voice, and it’s admiration, and Abed, who is made up of about 90% shame at this point, and is not great at processing emotions even in normal circumstances, feels like his brain is short circuiting.

 _Don’t be proud of me,_ he tries to say, but it comes out as a sob, and Abed has never cried in front of Troy before, not even over the phone. It’s not that he’s embarrassed, because Troy’s cried in front of him plenty of times. He just...doesn’t know what to do.

Troy does.

While Abed sniffs and gasps and looks for a tissue, Troy talks to him. Not about anything heavy or pressing, nothing relevant or emotional. He recounts some of his time on the boat and offers up memories from Greendale, tells stories from childhood and high school, and he punctuates these with reassurances, whispering _it’s okay_ and _just let it out_ and _I love you_.

Annie pokes her head into the room, a concerned look on her face, and Abed attempts a weak smile to reassure her as he waves her away. She nods and makes a heart shape with her hands, then disappears back into the hallway.

After what feels like forever but is probably only a couple of minutes, Abed takes a deep, shaky breath and exhales slowly. Troy stops talking and gives him a minute to collect himself.

“Sorry,” says Abed, and his voice sounds all watery and broken. He clears his throat. “And thank you.”

“Dude, don’t apologize for crying. You know I never do.”

“That’s fair.”

“Also, you’re welcome.”

“I miss you,” Abed says, and is surprised at how desperate he sounds, as if the crying broke down some barrier and now his emotions are leaking through. “I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you a lot, too,” Troy says, and sighs.

“I don’t know how it works,” Abed says abruptly. “When I’m in there, if I want to talk to you, I don’t know how it works. I don’t know if I can. I wasn’t listening, I forgot to ask…”

“Abed. Hey. It’s okay.” Troy’s voice is soothing and Abed stops babbling. “Jeff probably knows. If he doesn’t know, someone will tell you tonight. And we’ll figure it out. If we can’t talk on the phone, we’ll email. If you don’t have internet access, we can...we can write letters.”

“And mail them? That will take forever. I’m not going to be there forever...” Abed starts to feel panic rising in his chest, and tries to concentrate on finding a better solution.

“Okay, let me think about this for a minute.” From the tone of Troy’s voice, Abed can tell he’s doing the same thing, he knows how important this is to Abed.

“I know,” Abed says, a plan coming together in his mind. “I can write you a letter. Annie can scan it and email it to you. You can email back, and Annie can print it and bring it to me. It’s inefficient, more of a worst-case scenario. But it should work, right?”

“Brilliant,” Troy says. “You’re brilliant, Abed.”

With that taken care of, Abed breathes a little easier. He knows he’s using up all of Troy’s minutes and battery, but he can’t bear to end the phone call a minute before he has to. He doesn’t know when he’ll get to hear Troy’s voice again and he wants to hoard it, savor it, treasure it.

“If you could be anyone, dead or alive, and be doing anything in the world, right this minute, who would you be and what would you be doing?” It’s a game Abed and Troy used to play all the time, often leading to new simulations in the Dreamatorium. Now, Abed is just grasping for something familiar and safe.

“Um,” says Troy.

“Troy?” says Abed.

“I’d be myself. And I’d be kissing you,” Troy blurts out in a rush, and Abed never knew that it was possible to hear someone blush over the phone, but he’s definitely hearing it right now in Troy’s voice.

“Oh,” Abed says faintly. “Um. I’d like that.”

“Really?” Troy says, and his voice is all breathy the way it was last time they talked on the phone, and Abed is a little stunned to realize _it's because of him._

“Yeah,” Abed replies, dazed, and he wants to say more, can think of quite a few things he’d like to say, in fact, but not in a hospital room and definitely not with Annie right outside the door. He wonders if Troy can hear _him_ blush. 

“Um,” says Troy.

“Um,” echoes Abed.

They’re both silent for a few seconds but it isn’t awkward at all. Abed listens to Troy breathe, and it’s almost hypnotizing.

“Fuck,” Troy says suddenly. “My battery is dying.”

“Oh. Okay,” says Abed, flustered. “I’ll talk to you soon, I hope. Somehow.”

“Have Annie get in touch and tell me how to contact you, okay?”

“I will,” says Abed.

“ _I love you_ ,” Troy says, his voice hard and sharp, etching the words into Abed’s heart. “Good luck tonight.”

“I love you too,” Abed replies, and his voice is the opposite, almost a whimper. “Thank you.”

“Bye, Abed.”

“Bye, Troy.”


	20. Chapter 20

Annie plays on her phone outside in the hall, and every so often she glances through the doorway to see if Abed is still on the phone. One of these times, she sees Abed crying, but he forces a smile when she looks to see if he’s okay, so she tries not to overreact. And the next time she checks he has a look on his face that she’s never seen before, and she doesn’t know quite what to call it, but words like _smitten_ and _enamored_ and _head over heels_ come to mind. The hallway is mostly empty, and she does a little happy dance.

When she checks again, Abed is hanging up the phone, so Annie heads back into the room.

“How’d it go?” she asks. 

“It was good,” Abed says with a hint of a grin.

“I’m glad,” she replies.

“I forgot to tell him hi for you!” Abed exclaims. “I bet he knows, though.”

“I bet he does, too,” Annie says, smiling. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Could you do us a favor?” Abed asks.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Once we find out about my communication options, like if I can get phone calls or access my email, things like that, can you pass that information on to Troy?”

“Of course,” she says. “That’s not a problem at all.”

“Thanks, Annie.” Abed looks so relieved, and Annie wishes there was more she could do to connect Troy and Abed, wishes she knew a way to keep that smile on Abed’s face a little longer.

“Hey, so I was thinking,” Annie says. “What if the whole group came over here tonight, to hang out for a little while before you move to the other place? I don’t know what their visiting hours are like, or if they have limits, but...I thought it might be nice to be all together for a little bit.”

Abed is quiet, and Annie can tell that he’s thinking, so she doesn’t say anything, just waits and tries to seem patient.

“Okay,” Abed says. “Yes. That would be nice.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Annie says. “Because I kind of already invited them.” She flashes Abed a sheepish grin. She knows he won’t be mad. She does stuff like this all the time. 

Sure enough, all he does is scoot over and pat the bed so she can sit down. She cuddles up next to him and leans her head on his right shoulder.

“What time are they coming?” Abed asks.

* * *

The doctor had told Jeff that Abed would be moved after dinner, so the group comes to the hospital in the late afternoon. Jeff drives Britta and Shirley from campus, with the agreement that Annie will take them home later and Jeff will stay with Abed for as long as he can. Abed tries to focus on that, rather than what comes after.

He decides it’s a really good thing that the group is coming, because he can’t stop thinking about everything that comes next, and it’s becoming a real problem. He’s so anxious he can’t even distract himself with thoughts of Troy or episodes of _Inspector Spacetime_ with Annie. He sighs with relief when Jeff and Shirley and Britta arrive and settle themselves around the room.

“How’s it going?” Jeff asks, leaning against the wall near the foot of the bed.

“Honestly, I’m kind of freaking out, so if you guys could do literally everything in your power to distract me until the last possible moment, that would be great,” Abed says, the words rushing out before can even think about them.

“You sound great, if that helps,” Britta says brightly. “Are you feeling better, at least?”

“I talked to Troy on the phone earlier,” Abed says, and shrugs. “I’m trying to hold onto the high from that, I think.”

“Aw!” Annie and Britta exclaim in unison, Annie with her hands clapped together over her heart.

“I know, it’s adorable,” Abed deadpans. “But now I’m about to be locked up in an unfamiliar hospital for an as-yet undetermined period of time without my friends or anyone familiar and forced to talk about my feelings and confront my irrational food aversions and unhealthy coping mechanisms, so you’ll forgive me if I’m _freaking out and need you guys to do literally everything in your power to distract me until the last possible moment. Please.”_

Abed’s eyes are very, very wide, and while he’s not yelling, his voice is incrementally getting louder, especially when he gets to “please”, and he hopes someone else will jump in soon because he doesn’t want to dissolve in panic and ruin this visit.

Jeff has obviously come prepared.

“So I saw a thing on the internet about how the introduction of midichlorians was the most genius plot point in the whole Star Wars fran--”

“You read _WHAT?”_

It works. Every thought about his present situation flies out of Abed’s head and he relishes the rage he feels at the very idea that _midichlorians_ could be called a genius plot device. He curls his hands into fists as he begins to rant, adrenaline rushing through him.

“Nailed it,” Britta says out of the corner of her mouth, and Shirley and Annie give Jeff a thumbs up, but Abed doesn’t care. A small part of him is grateful, and wonders if Jeff made it up because he knew it would set Abed off, but he tries not to dwell on that so he can savor the distraction.

Finally, when Abed begins to slow down, feeling he’s adequately explained his position on the matter, Jeff deftly turns the conversation toward Greendale, and everyone recounts the things Abed has missed over the last three days, and it’s nice, and if Abed closes his eyes he can almost imagine they’re all at the table in the study room. 

* * *

Jeff doesn’t realize it’s dinner time until a nurse brings Abed’s ubiquitous peas and Annie heats him up a bowl of noodles. The rest of the group take turns running down to the cafeteria, and then they all eat together. Abed holds his bowl on his lap and pushes the noodles around and Jeff keeps an eye on him, because he's noticed Abed isn't actually eating. He's picking up noodles and putting them down and pushing them around in the bowl, but he hasn't taken a single bite yet. Jeff is frustrated, because he kind of thought Abed had gotten past this.

 _The stakes have changed,_ he realizes. Abed has been eating only so they wouldn’t put a tube in his nose. Now he’s about to be moved somewhere else, and he believes the bargain no longer applies, and Jeff doesn’t like it at all. He glares at Abed next time he looks his direction, and Abed immediately looks down and grabs another forkful of noodles. He doesn’t eat it, though, just holds it and looks up at Jeff, waiting for Jeff to look away, but Jeff won’t, and it’s like a messed up game of chicken. 

Jeff is starting to get angry, irritated that Abed won’t just eat the damn noodles, and then something catches his eye and it’s a glint of light off of Abed’s fork, because Abed’s hand is shaking. Actually, Abed’s whole body is shaking, and he sees Annie snake her arm around his back and give him a quick squeeze. She’s trying to be comforting, but Abed jerks away from her touch, drops the noodles, and folds himself up so his head is on his knees, and he's just a ball of panic.

 _He doesn’t want this any more than you do,_ Jeff thinks. All of his anger has vanished, and he feels like a monster, hates that he made things worse. He needs to fix it.

“Hey guys?” Jeff says, interrupting the side conversation between Britta and Shirley. “I think they’re going to move Abed soon, so you might want to start heading out.”

Annie, who looks miserable, is trying to apologize to Abed, who is unresponsive. Britta and Shirley look confused, having missed the silent interactions between the other three.

“Bye, Abed,” Britta says in a sad voice. “I’ll come see you soon, I promise.”

“Good luck, Abed,” Shirley says. “Take care.”

“I’m sorry, Abed,” Annie says, and stands up. “Jeff, will you call me after? And find out about visiting and calling and stuff so I can pass it along to Troy.”

“Sure thing,” Jeff says. “Drive safe.”

The girls leave, and Jeff takes a seat in the chair next to Abed. 

“Thanks,” says Abed in a muffled voice. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten frustrated.”

Abed’s head shoots up.

“Of fucking _course_ you should have gotten frustrated, Jeff,” he says angrily. “Don’t you think _I’m_ frustrated? This is ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous. _I’m_ ridiculous.”

Jeff has never heard Abed talk like this, never even heard him swear, and it’s disconcerting. Abed is staring straight ahead, but now he turns his head and Jeff can see tears streaked down his cheeks.

“Do you know this is the second time I’ve cried today? I never cry. I especially never cry in front of other people. I don’t know what’s happening. It’s like something broke in me when Troy left and all my crazy came rushing out and I don’t know how to get it to stop. How do I make it _stop?_ ” His voice breaks on the last word. 

“I mean, that’s why you’re doing this program, right?” Jeff says gently. “To learn how to make it stop?”

Abed lets his head fall back to his knees, and then Jeff sees him nod.

“And, hey,” Jeff continues. “We all have a bottle of crazy in us just waiting to leak out, okay? It’s different for everyone, obviously, but...you aren’t alone.”

Abed nods again. Jeff stands up, grabs the noodles and peas from Abed’s table, and dumps them out in the trash. Then he picks up Abed’s weighted blanket, which is bunched at the foot of the bed, and gently wraps it around him. He sits back down in the chair next to the bed.

Jeff and Abed sit in silence until Shawn comes in pushing an empty wheelchair, ready to take Abed to the psychiatric unit.


	21. Chapter 21

Seventeen days later, Jeff picks Abed up at the hospital to finally, _finally_ bring him home. Abed gathers his belongings, and Jeff thinks about the day he found Abed in that closet, how frail and broken he was, compared to the man in front of him, smiling and well-rested. To put it in Abed’s own terms, he looks like “Regular Abed” again. 

Jeff fidgets as Abed fills out his discharge paperwork with a nurse. There are no cell phones allowed in the locked ward and he doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits. 

When Abed is finally ready, Jeff has to guide him out of the labyrinthine building and down to the car, because while Jeff has been visiting often and knows these halls like the back of his hand by now, Abed has never seen them, has no frame of reference. He keeps getting distracted and stopping to examine the pictures on the walls, and Jeff keeps trying to speed him along.

“I’m emerging from two back-to-back bottle episodes, Jeff,” Abed explains. “It’s a lot to take in. The adjustment takes time. There are so many things happening.”

Jeff sends a text when they get to the car, saying they’re on their way to the apartment, and Abed’s eyes are glued to the window the entire way there. When they finally arrive, Abed jumps out of the car and reaches for his bag.

“I’ll get the rest,” Jeff says. “You go on up.”

“Okay, thanks,” Abed says with a shrug, and heads to apartment 303, and Jeff watches with a grin. 

* * *

Abed makes his way to the apartment, still stopping to look at things on his way. He can’t believe he’s finally home. It feels like he’s been gone forever, and his mind is running a million miles an hour. He takes a breath and turns the doorknob, expecting to be flung into a hug with Annie, wondering what he’ll do today, now that he has control over his own life again.

The door swings open and everything stops. 

His bag slides off his shoulder and thumps on the floor. 

Troy is standing in the doorway.

* * *

“Surprise,” Troy says, and cringes slightly because he can hear the nervous tremor in his voice, and he doesn’t want Abed to think he’s having any doubts about...well, literally anything right now.

When he first brought the idea up with Annie, it was also the first time they’d talked on the phone since Troy left, and she _screamed_ with excitement. So it’s not like he ever thought that this visit wasn’t going to be the best idea ever. It’s just that now here he is, face to face with Abed, and it’s really only been a few months since they last saw each other, but it feels like so much longer with everything that’s happened, and he feels a little overwhelmed.

He’s pretty sure Abed does, too, because Abed is just standing there, mouth open, not saying a word, and his eyes are huge and dark and beautiful and Troy is so distracted by them, it takes him a minute to realize that Abed is now moving toward him, and a second later Abed’s mouth is on Troy’s mouth and Abed’s arms are around Troy’s body and all Troy can think is, _there is nothing in any universe better than this_. Troy hears some footsteps outside that he knows are Jeff’s, and the sound of another bag being dropped on the floor, and then the door closes gently and it’s just Troy and Abed again, just Troy and Abed kissing in the foyer. 

When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing hard, and Troy’s cheeks are wet with tears, and he can’t even tell whose they are.

“Is this okay?” Troy whispers, as he pulls Abed back in for a hug, and he feels Abed nodding against him.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Abed says, all muffled, and Troy can feel the vibration of Abed’s voice on his shoulder, and it sends a thrill down his spine.

“Me either,” he says, and holds Abed even tighter.

“How long…?” Abed starts, and trails off. “Just so I’m prepared.”

“Three days,” Troy says.

“72 hours,” Abed muses. “A lot can happen in 72 hours.”

Troy draws in a sharp breath, glad Abed can’t see his face.

“That actually wasn’t supposed to sound so suggestive,” Abed amends quickly. “It’s how long they made me stay in the hospital while I decided whether to go to treatment.”

“Oh,” says Troy. He’s kind of relieved and disappointed at the same time, and he thinks maybe Abed can tell because his shoulders start to shake a little and Troy realizes he’s laughing.

Troy starts to laugh, too, and then without a word both of them start walking to the blanket fort, giggling the whole way, and Troy is relieved to know they can still kind of read each other's minds. 

* * *

Abed is home, and Troy is here, and Abed can’t remember the last time he felt this content. Certainly it was before Troy decided to take the trip, but he thinks even then he didn’t feel like _this._ He feels lighter than he’s maybe ever felt, like he’s shed a suit of armor, one he doesn’t need anymore because he’s learning how to protect himself with his own body, which is terrifying and also pretty amazing. 

They’re laying side-by-side on the bottom bunk, and when their laughter dies down they turn and face each other, focused on remembering each other, staring at each other for a length of time that would be awkward with any other person. 

“When is Annie coming home?” Abed asks suddenly, and realizes he has no idea how much time has passed since he got here. “And what happened to Jeff?”

“Jeff left after he dropped your bag inside and closed the door,” Troy says. “And Annie, um. Is spending the day and night at Britta's?” The last part comes out all squeaky, and Abed grins.

“Cool. Cool cool cool.”

“So we have lots of time to catch up and talk and whatever,” Troy adds.

“Good,” Abed says. “Because I missed you, and now you’re here, and all I want is to be with you.”

“Me too,” Troy says. “All those things.”

It’s warm in the blanket fort. The air conditioner hasn’t been fixed since Troy left. Abed sits up and slips his hoodie off without thinking about it. When he lays back down, Troy takes his right hand and laces their fingers together, and that’s when Abed remembers that his wrist, once ringed with scabs, is now a mess of scars. Very, very obvious ones. Abed freezes, torn between yanking his hand away from Troy and attempting to casually put his hoodie back on.

He does neither, because Troy isn’t oblivious, and he is already carefully lifting Abed’s wrist to his mouth and softly kissing every scar. He doesn’t look at Abed’s face, and he doesn’t ask him any questions, and he doesn’t get upset. Abed lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

When Troy is done, he squeezes Abed’s hand and then cuddles up closer to him and they go back to their comfortable silence, this time both looking at the upper bunk instead of at each other. Abed doesn’t know how, but Troy has this sixth sense where he always knows if Abed doesn’t want to be spoken to, or looked at, or touched. He’s relieved to know it still works, even after Troy’s been gone a little while.

“I love you. For all time,” Abed whispers, finally.

“I know. And don’t you mean for all space?” Troy whispers back. “Also, I love you too. Obviously. But I had to get both references in there.”

Abed responds by tilting Troy’s head toward him and kissing him hard on the mouth.

“I’ll tell you about all of it sometime,” Abed says, after they've been silent for a little while. “I found the words. Some of them, at least. While I was in the hospital.”

“You don’t have to,” Troy replies, glancing over at Abed. “It’s okay.”

“I want to,” Abed insists. He turns to face Troy. “I want you to know all of me. It just might take me a little while to show you everything. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” says Troy. “And thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For trusting me.” Troy smiles shyly.

“It’s kind of this new thing I’m learning,” Abed says. “I might mess up sometimes.”

“That’s what learning is,” Troy replies. “It’s okay. I’m learning things, too.”

Troy sits up and Abed follows, and they do their handshake for the first time since Troy left, and it’s perfect.

“Hey,” Troy says. “Want to go into the Dreamatorium?”

“Okay.” 

They both stand up and he grabs Troy’s hand, holds it tight. He thinks he’d be just fine holding Troy’s hand forever, and from the look on Troy’s face, he's thinking the same thing. Together they cross the small apartment, and Troy opens the door to the Dreamatorium, which Abed rebuilt in the extra bedroom when Troy left.

“What simulation are we running?” Abed asks.

“Our future,” Troy replies, and pulls him inside, closing the door behind them.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I've written Abed's time in inpatient treatment as a separate fic titled "Synchronous Character Growth 101." That and what will probably end up being a few one-shots are included with this fic as part of the "Topics in Recovery and Romance" series.
> 
> [Also, I made a playlist of the songs I associate with each chapter of this fic.](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLzY0kRTiMpwapkV3K1XjXIYZlgbeVuSrC)
> 
> [Feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr @1mechanicalalligator!](http://1mechanicalalligator.tumblr.com)


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